Before The Dawn
by FalconWing
Summary: When a disgiused Jack is taken hostage along with other guests from Will and Elizabeth's wedding, it's all about waiting for the opportune moment to reveal himself. But how can he turn this to his advantage? Complete.
1. Of Pearls and Roses

**Before The Dawn**

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**Chapter I: Of Pearls and Roses**

By FalconWing

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"Mate, my advice to you is to strike your colours and order these men here to drop their weapons."

Captain Julian Mannings of the merchant ship the Lady Rose stared wide-eyed and vacantly down the barrel of the brown pistol aimed between his eyes. From the moment the lookout had spotted the black sails on the horizon he had known that they were being pursued by none other than the notorious Black Pearl and her infamous captain, Jack Sparrow.

Now the man himself stood before him, holding a gun to his head, demanding he order his crew to surrender, and all Julian Mannings could do was goggle at him.

By God, but the man was strange! With his twin braided beard, dreadlocked and beaded hair and red bandana, he looked like some sort of gypsy, not the most feared pirate in the Caribbean, maybe the world. Until you looked at his eyes that is. Now Mannings had seen many a sailor wear kohl to keep the sun from their eyes and had had to refrain from laughing at their expense. 

Sparrow looked anything but amusing. The kohl merely lent his dark eyes a mischievous, even feral, glint.

In his preoccupation, only a part of his brain noticed Sparrow cock the pistol before turning to address the Rose's crew himself. "Listen here fellas. Now, either you can drop your weapons, we take what we want and let you get on your way or you can fight, I'll kill your captain here, my crew kills you and we take what we want and leave anyway, savvy? What say you to that?"

Mannings watched blankly as weapons clattered to the deck and Sparrow grinned and nodded in thanks before ushering his waiting crew down into the holds. The captain un-cocked his gun and shoved it in his belt then helped a few remaining crew gathering up the abandoned weapons.

Pulling up some barrels, Sparrow, a dark skinned woman and an elderly man, began sorting through the collection. To Julian's surprise they appeared to be organizing the weaponry into two groups: those of good quality and those of poor. He had always heard that pirates didn't know all that much about swords, knives and pistols. He thought they just grabbed anything with a point and started swinging.

But then the crew of the Black Pearl had already surprised him today and he wasn't just talking about their eccentric captain. He listened to the tales that sailors brought back from encounters with pirates – the ones that made it back alive anyway – and they all seemed to agree on one thing.

There was no training apparent. They seemed to just grab any available weapon and hack at their opponent. For most buccaneers, getting out in one piece was as much due to luck and brute strength as it was to skill.

And yet, when the Pearl's crew had boarded his ship, while the pirates all looked to have had at least basic training a great many of them had obviously a great talent for the sword. The Lady Rose's crew had been losing the fight long before Jack Sparrow had made his way to the quarterdeck where Mannings was standing next to his helmsman and calmly aimed his pistol at Julian's forehead.

A shout from below decks interrupted his musings. Jogging footsteps were heard and an older man appeared at the top of the stairs. In his arms was a fluffy bundle of white silk. Squawking from the man's shoulder was a green parrot which was currently amusing itself by making low unintelligible noises from deep in its throat.

He made his way over to the captain, who took the bundle into his own arms and began to shake it out.

Seeing what it was, Sparrow glanced up briefly and met his stare thoughtfully. His gaze narrowed and he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together as though in deep contemplation. Coming to a decision, he sat up straight and beckoned to Captain Mannings.

Warily approaching the flamboyant pirate captain, Mannings quickly tried to draw himself together. He had already acted too much like a fool before this man and he would not let him have anymore advantages. Why, he was no more that a common brigand!

Every nerve in his body begged to differ to this statement but he kept his back dead upright and his face composed as he came to a stop. Sparrow regarded him for a moment, a look that made his insides quiver but he refused to crack under the pressure. It took an effort not to breathe a sigh of relief when Sparrow returned his gaze to the item still in his hands. 

"What I would like to know Captain...?" The pirate captain's tone of voice was deep and calm. As he had noticed earlier, while the pirate's voice was rough and had a slight accent, there was none of the habitual use of harsh abbreviations on words that accompanied your average pirate or sailor's speech.

"Mannings," he supplied, noted with relief that his voice did not quaver. He had managed to cling the tattered dregs of his dignity at least. "Captain Mannings of the merchantman the Lady Rose."

Sparrow raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Right then, Captain Mannings. What I would like to know is why your only cargo is a bloody great wedding dress."

The rest of the ragtag crew gathered around to hear his answer and he saw with no small amount of satisfaction that their expressions were all distinctly peeved. All but Sparrow that was. He fairly lounged in what must surely be an uncomfortable perch on his barrel, regarding Julian with a curious, thought slightly impatient, countenance.

Julian cleared his throat. "We were hired to bring the wedding dress directly to Port Royal. Moreover we were offered no small amount of money to do it. We are to then restock with the usual shipment and continue on our way."

"Port Royal? Whose wedding might that be?" The pirate's expression was carefully neutral, voice bland.

"The governor's daughter, Elizabeth Swann, is to marry a blacksmith. William Turner, I think his name was." The expression on the man's face now, was certainly not what he had expected. Surprise, amusement and…fondness?...all flickered across Sparrow's features in rapid succession before he regained control of himself. "Caused quite a scandal from all accounts."

Manner completely altered, Sparrow leaped to his feet and swaggered across the deck to the boarding plank that joined the two ships. Transferring the wedding gown onto one arm, he gestured for the crew to return to the Pearl, the woman grabbing the good pile of swords as she went. 

Once they had gone, Sparrow turned back to Mannings.

"Well Captain Mannings of the Lady Rose, it looks as though our little get-together has come to an end. I will relieve you of this beautiful cargo and deliver it personally to the bride." Hefting the dress higher, he made his way across the plank muttering to himself. The words "Looks like we'll find out if you really are a eunuch then won't we whelp?" drifted back to them on the wind, the restrained laughter evident in the tone.

Julian could see Sparrow stride up to the helm. As he watched the man settle in by the wheel, he could feel his legs turn to jelly and he was forced to grab the rail to keep from collapsing as his knees threatened to buckle. He left the Lieutenant in charge and carefully made his way towards his cabin. 

Shock could be slept off, and right now, he wanted nothing more than to lie down on his bed and give way to oblivion.

*          *       *       *          *

Captain Jack Sparrow grasped the helm and raised his head, feeling the wind whip through his hair. He breathed in the refreshing smell of the ocean and braced his legs on either side of the wheel. He closed his eyes in contentment.

He couldn't quite comprehend why the whelp would want to marry. Marriage closed you in, cut down your options and took away your freedom. But if he was prepared to tie the knot then, invited or not, Jack was going to be there to watch it happen. Should be rather amusing really. An irrepressible roguish grin formed on his face. He couldn't wait to see their faces when he turned up on their doorstep.

Breathing in again, he faced the crew. "Weigh anchor and hoist the sails." The grin widened. "We have a wedding to attend!"

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Thank you for reading. This is my first go at a multi-chapter story – the closest I've gotten is a two-shot but that doesn't really count. It should be updated pretty soon. As in, hopefully within the next couple of days, depending on school. Please review. I need to know what I'm doing well or what needs to be improved for the next chapter. Reviewers will be incessantly acclaimed.

By the way, most of it will be in Jack's POV – that was just an introduction really and I thought it must be interesting from a different perspective. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed my other fics.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.**


	2. Of Weddings and Surprises

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter II: Of Weddings and Surprises**

By FalconWing

Jack impatiently swatted at a disobedient lock of hair and took a last glance in the mirror.

Looking back at him was a respectable gentleman of medium stature, long dark hair meticulously combed back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was garbed in a fluffy white shirt that was, on closer inspection much like his own only cleaner, a plain, though finely made, brown vest, black pants, white stockings and the rather poncy shoes that the aristocracy seemed to insist upon these days. He had to squint at the image in the mirror to catch even a glimpse of the scruffy pirate he was.

He tried to stop himself from wincing.

Gone were his dreadlocks and much-loved trinkets. Gone was the twin braided beard, as was the kohl from around his eyes. And gone was his trusty tri-cornered hat and red bandana.

He settled for a long-suffering sigh.

Will and Elizabeth had better appreciate the pains to which he had gone to attend this wedding.

Turning smartly on his heel, he placed atop his head the ridiculous feathered hat that Gibbs had found and strode across his cabin to the door – strode like a civilized landlubber, not his usual swagger. Throwing open the doors and walking out onto the deck he gripped onto his veneer of dignity as the crew stopped in their work to gawk as he passed.

Climbing the stairs to the quarterdeck in a stiff, controlled manner, he turned to Anamaria. She had been leaning, relaxed and obviously in deep thought, against the helm, lightly gripping the wheel. She looked up as he approached and her grip on the wheel completely slackened as she stared at him in utter astonishment.

A smirk threatened – Anamaria was a sharp lass and it wasn't often he could surprise her, so whenever he did he was sure to relish in the occasion – but he held it back, opting instead to keep up the snobbish façade.

He pursed his lips, lifted his chin and looked down on her.

"Is there a problem, miss? This ship would have swung at least seven points to starboard due to your inattention if it weren't for the fact that we have dropped anchor," he intoned pompously, his words clipped and short – much like the good Commodore's – and all trace of a lower class accent gone.

If anything, this only served to make her gape all the more. She gulped. "Ja – Jack?!"

He bowed low before presenting his arm with a flourish. "Would you care to join me, my lady? We have reached Port Royal and, as I shall soon be departing, a few moments in your company would lighten my spirit immeasurably." Only the mocking glint in his eyes and the tell-tale twitch of his lips gave away that he was anything but serious.

She had regained her composure, crossing her arms across her chest and raising an eyebrow. His arm remained unaccepted until he sighed in disappointment and lowered it back to his side. She shook her head as though in irritation but now it was his turn to recognize the small upturning of her mouth as a sign that she was actually rather amused by his antics.

A loud bell startled them out of their conversation. He started to curse but snapped his jaw closed – wealthy men did not swear. It had taken him longer to get ready than he had thought. He had planned to stop by and visit the happy couple before the ceremony but as he was running behind schedule, he would just have to turn up. As the bell had signaled, it was now noon and he had managed to find out that the wedding began at twelve thirty up at the fort.

He would have to hurry. The Pearl was anchored in a small cove just around from Port Royal, which meant that while they could avoid unwanted attention, it made it quite a long way to the fort. He would only just make it.

Abandoning all semblances of poise and decorum, he jumped into a row boat and rowed himself around the point, into the bay and up to the docks. Leaping out, he ignored the insistent tilt of the ground and threw three shillings at the harbormaster, who only had time to say "Welcome to Po–" before Jack was past him and sprinting through the streets. He didn't even notice the strange looks he was getting as he inelegantly clamped his hat to his head to keep it from flying off.

He raced up the hill and its winding roads, right to the last corner where he slid to a stop. He hastily smoothed back his hair, adjusting his hat and straightening his outfit. It wouldn't do to arrive looking flustered. He managed not to flinch as he wiggled his toes. These shoes were definitely not made for running.

Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, he rounded the corner. Milling around were a number of high class and well-off individuals all standing in small groups, chatting. He had made it on time – a little early even. He was just sighing in relief when he saw a familiar face.

Commodore Norrington was immersed in a conversation with a young lady. He would have liked a better look but he didn't catch more than the fact that she was wearing too much makeup before he managed to blend back into the crowd. Now would not be a good time to be recognized.

He achieved said blending by turning to the nearest group and doing what he did best – talking. He introduced himself as an old friend of the bride and hailing from St Kitts. He informed them all, that he was a wealthy merchant and was well into bombarding them with the details of how to store cargo correctly when he was interrupted by a polite cough from beside him.

He started and turned towards the man standing next to him. "Yes?" he inquired demurely.

"Well," The man's garish red waistcoat was almost enough to make him shudder. "Although all this information is very enlightening, I was wondering who you are."

Jack stared at him blankly. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of a name! "Oh. Yes of course," he replied, thinking furiously. "I'm John." He blurted the first name that came to mind and held out his hand. "John Smith."

It was right at this moment that the gates opened and two guards started checking for invitations and letting people through. It was quick work for Jack to slip through unnoticed while the guards were otherwise occupied. Other guests were sitting down in the seats that were lined in rows. He paused briefly to consider. Any old fool could lie but it took a bit of talent to not get found. Jack knew that to get away with it you needed to keep to the truth as much as you can and stick with a lie once you've told it. He had told people that he knew the bride so in keeping with that he sat himself on the bride's side of the aisle.

People continued to enter and the seats gradually filled up until there were, to his best guess, approximately a hundred and fifty people all crammed into the courtyard. Though, to be exact, crammed was a bit exaggerated. A little crowded would be a better description – the courtyard was a big area, after all.

Jack found himself squeezed between a rather portly fellow who was taking up half of Jack's seat as well as his own and a dour, middle aged woman with a bit too much face powder on and _far_ too much perfume. It burned his nose and throat and he could feel the tickling sensation that was telling him that he needed to sneeze.

So he did…

Just as a silence descended, greeting the entrance of the groom. Jack swallowed and gave a small smile as everyone around him turned to look at him. Not exactly the best way to remain inconspicuous.

Will looked much as he had the last time Jack had seen him, a year ago. His face had matured a bit and he seemed slightly less stiff and worried, though excitement showed clearly on his face. If possible, he looked even more like his father. In his mind, Jack could almost see William senior standing there in his son's place, like he was on the day he married Will's mother.

Jack jerked back to reality and mentally scolded himself for dwelling on the past. What was done was done, and no amount of imagining was going to bring his old friend back.

He fixed his mind in the present and turned with the rest of the audience as violins signaled the arrival of the bride.

– – – – –

Will was floating on air. His cheeks hurt from grinning so much but he didn't notice.

He was marrying Elizabeth. He couldn't have been more ecstatic.

For a moment, standing at the end of the aisle by the altar, he had been distracted for a moment by a loud sneeze. Everyone had been staring accusingly at a man halfway down on the left of the aisle – the bride's side. He had long black hair tied back in a ponytail and a large feathered hat. The man sported an apologetic grin and Will couldn't help the feeling that he knew this man.

But then the music had started and he had been absolutely captivated by the beautiful apparition making her way towards him. The bride. _His_ bride.

"Elizabeth."

He breathed her name gently as she came to stand beside him, taking her hand.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur of joy. Flashes flickered across his vision in quick progression – her placing on his finger the plain band of gold that signified so much…her sweet smile as she vowed to love, honor and obey him…the minister pronouncing them husband and wife…that golden kiss that sealed the marriage.

Now they walked around the after-party at the Governor's mansion hand in hand greeting the guests. Elizabeth excused herself to go to the bathroom and he continued moving amongst the visitors.

A glimpse of a feathered hat caught his attention and he looked closer at the man wearing it. He could have sworn he remembered this man from somewhere. _Of course you do Will, _he told himself, _else he wouldn't have been invited._ But the nagging feeling wouldn't go away.

Then the man turned to his neighbor and said loudly, "…and so I said 'Stop blowing holes in my ship!'" The group surrounding him burst into laughter, but Will didn't notice.

His jaw dropped in disbelief. Accent or not, manners or not, Will would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Jack!" he exclaimed, incredulous.

Jack seemed to have heard him, for he began to turn but it was at that precise moment that the front door flew completely off its hinges as a massive group of unkempt vagabonds charged into the room brandishing swords and pistols.

One man, who appeared to be their leader, stepped forward. "Now, I want y'all t' come nice an' quiet like when we tell ye too, a'right?"

Commodore Norrington stepped forward from where he was standing. His face was clear of all emotion. "And why would we do that?" his voice matched his face – cold and expressionless and yet iron-hard. Before the man had a chance to answer, movement at the top of the stairs drew everyone's attention. Will's breath hitched in his throat and his world threatened to crash to the ground.

Elizabeth stood at the head of the stairs, face stricken with fear. Behind her stood another brigand and pointed at the side of her head was the shining, silver barrel of a pistol.

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Another chapter, yay! I tried to update it pretty fast. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review and tell me what you thought. Reviewers will be absolutely treasured forever.

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: coolpuella ( ), Savvy-Rum-Drinker, Anita Lawn, Savvyness, Alaawya and Redbud-Tree.

Lotsa Luv…

**FalconWing.**


	3. Of Captivity and Plans

**Before The Dawn******

**Chapter III: Of Captivity and Plans**

By FalconWing

Jack sat, elbows on his knees, in the corner of the gloomy brig, humming softly to himself and trying desperately to think of a plan of escape. He was Captain Jack Sparrow and he could and would devise a plan for any situation. His brain just wasn't functioning at this point in time. The incessant sound of clicking knuckles coming from outside, where a guard was stationed wasn't helping matters either.

He glanced at Will who was seated on the floor opposite him, knees drawn up to his chest and head bowed. He was probably worried about Elizabeth who they hadn't seen hide nor hair of since setting foot on this ship. He felt an unusual pang of sympathy for the lad – it was his wedding night and not only was he spending it sitting in ankle-high dirty water, but his new wife was in the hands of a crew who most likely had no qualms about committing murder or rape. The boy was, in all probability, beating himself up over it at this very moment.

The ship rocked from side to side in a circular motion, almost in time with his humming, as it crested the waves. The beams creaked and groaned as the sway increased.

Jack shook his head in frustration. These people had obviously not spent long at sea, as they had absolutely no idea of how to handle a ship such as this. The way they were sailing he would expect there to be some sort of a tempest and yet when he looked between the gaps in the planks, all he could see was the sparkling stars in the night sky and a calm, dark ocean. One, lone bean of moonlight lit up the cell. At this rate, the ship would go down from plain bad sailing before he got anywhere near to preparing an escape.

And of course he would have to take Will and Elizabeth with him and they in turn would expect him to rescue all the guests as well. He sighed in exasperation.  He didn't know exactly how many of the wedding guests had been taken too, but he knew it was about fifteen or so.

The small group he had been talking to had been left behind, which was a shame really, as he had been halfway through spinning an exceptionally dazzling yarn about being attacked by the Black Pearl. He had supposedly been captaining the merchantman when they had been pursued and defeated by the Pearl. As he told it, the crew of the Pearl was the most fearsome crew one could ever hope to meet and their captain – one Jack Sparrow – a most formidable, yet striking, foe.

But it was then that everything had gone wrong.

He had started to turn, hearing someone call his name and that was when the men had arrived, wielding swords and guns, threatening the lives of the visitors, their families and of course that of the bride, Elizabeth.

Most of the guests had been locked in one of the rooms and those who looked the more prosperous of them were herded stealthily back to the boat at gunpoint and thrown in the brig. One of the visitors had been shot and the body dumped for attempting to call out and that had been enough to stop anyone else from attempting the same. Elizabeth had been taken off with the captain and god knows what they were doing with her.

Jack and Will were stuck in the same cell but the rest of the captives had been placed farther down the row.

Jack looked down at himself. If he had looked one of the wealthier inhabitants of the modest Port Royal before, he certainly didn't now. His clothes were scrunched and ruffled and his trousers and coat tails were wet from sitting in the water-logged cell, but then he supposed everyone else was in much the same state.

The ship rocked alarmingly again and he glanced up to see Will staring at him with a mixture of anxiety and desperation in his eyes. It had been Will's voice that had called out upon recognizing him, but he was the only person who knew John Smith's true identity.

Jack quirked an eyebrow in inquiry, but Will only shook his head slightly in dismissal and looked down again so Jack went back to his thoughts. 

Only he didn't have any thoughts to go back to. His mind was a blank canvas and he didn't know what to write. No intricately detailed design for a getaway sprung to mind and he had been sitting here for what must have been a few hours by now. No magic inscription appeared on the canvas telling him what to do.

He raised his head to the ceiling for inspiration. He needed a plan. Even a temporary one. 

His crew would find out what happened and come for him, but until then he needed to be in a position to make sure that the ship stayed afloat long enough and he couldn't do that from the brig.

And that's when the brain-wave struck.

 –          –       –       –          –

Will sat surrounded by a cloud of despair and desolation. He couldn't think, could barely breathe. 

All he could do was replay in his mind that horrible moment when he had looked up to see Elizabeth with a gun aimed at her head. It was their wedding night. He shouldn't be stuck down here and she certainly shouldn't be in the hands of those drunken murderers and thieves. Even the thought of them touching her threatened to send him spinning into a whirlpool of anguish and dejection.

_Click, click, click._ The guard outside kept clicking his knuckles and it annoyed Will no end.

Jack's infernal humming wasn't helping either but Will refrained from commenting – or snapping as was much more likely to be the case. After all, Jack was well known for his miraculous escapes and if he could get them out of this fix, well, a little humming never killed anybody.

The man in question certainly seemed to be in a state of deep concentration. His eyebrows were knitted together in an absorbed frown and every now and then he would shake his head slightly as though discarding an idea. At least Will certainly hoped that was what he was doing, for if he wasn't then they were pretty much doomed. What would happen to them then? What would happen to Elizabeth?

They had only just married and he wouldn't have her pulled from him when he had only just gotten her. Jack looked down at himself, one hand absently fingering his soaked coat.

The ship rocked suddenly and Jack looked up, meeting Will's gaze with his own. One eyebrow rose questioningly but Will could only shake his head and look down again. What could he say? All his hopes, all his dreams – his life – depended on his friend's ability to get them out of here. If he couldn't then chances were they would die. Will sure as hell had no notion whatsoever of how to get out of this situation.

The humming stopped suddenly and out of the corner of his eye he saw Jack abruptly sit bolt upright. Will didn't bother to move. It was highly improbable that Jack would miraculously obtain an outstanding scheme just like that.

But apparently he had, for next there was a very meaningful cough aimed in his direction – ever the subtle one, was Jack Sparrow. Will looked up, and Jack leaned forward dramatically, mouthing something completely unfathomable at him. He cocked his head to indicate that he didn't understand and Jack repeated it, this time with hand movements first gesturing to Will and then to himself.

Will's eyes widened with understanding and he nodded. Jack didn't want people knowing that Will knew who he was. Jack grinned briefly before jumping agilely to his feet and striding over to the bars, Will watching curiously. What _was _he doing?

"Hey, you. Guard" Jack's deep voice rang out through the silence. There was a pause, then the sound of movement and the guard shuffled into view.

"Wha' d'ye want?"

Will had to stop from flinching. The man's voice was cold and demanding, harsh with impatience and annoyance. Jack, however, stood as calm and relaxed as ever, even smirking slightly, as he leaned casually against the bars. His weight shifted in synchrony with the movement of the ship with the sort of ease that only long practice could bring.

"I wish to be taken to your captain. I need to speak with him."

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Thanks for reading. Reviews are great, as any writer will know and anyone who reviews will be incessantly acclaimed. For those who didn't know, all that fancy language and ostentatious phrasing is just another way for me to beg on my knees without sounding pathetic.

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Savvyness, Oneiriad, dshael, Beregond's Girl, Lyn, A Sly Fan, MiRoRmInX, Eliza and JadeStar13 (and yes, I'm afraid he did cut it off – I like it to but I couldn't stand him having a long beard without braids shudder - but don't worry, he likes it too so I', sure he'll grow it back).

Oodles of love to you all…

**FalconWing.**


	4. Of Captains and Deals

**Before The Dawn******

**Chapter IV: Of Captains and Deals**

By FalconWing

Jack swaggered into the cabin with all the outward confidence he could muster. The bloody shoes didn't make it any easier. Taking his hat off, he flung it unceremoniously onto the table in the center of room and took a good look around.

Under the windows at what was the stern of the ship was a desk of drawers and a large trunk, both obviously past their best. Tucked in a corner to the left, half hidden behind a screen was a small bunk. What appeared to be a door to another room, stood to his right. A layer of dust covered most of the furniture and none of it had been cleaned in quite some time. A rumpled map lay across the table, completely the general impression of disarray.

Making his way over to said table, he plonked himself into a chair and leaned back, swinging his feet onto the desk. Then, looking up, he nodded slightly at the man sitting opposite him – the only acknowledge Jack had paid him since entering the room.

He hadn't moved apart from giving a slightly puzzled expression and looking from Jack's hat, to Jack, to the hat again. Evidently the man had no control over his face to let such emotions play so openly across his features. One of the five golden rules of negotiating was to never show weakness. That included exhibiting such emotions as anger, love, hatred, sadness and, of course, mystification or puzzlement.

Not that Jack minded if this man had no command over his feelings. He was Jack's adversary: his loss was Jack's gain. Any fault on his part and it was Jack's for extorting.

_We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack…_

Jack couldn't say why his mind chose that particular moment to bring that line into the forefront of his mind, but he wasted no time in shoving it back where it belonged and turning his mind back to his task. There was a time and a place for singing: when marooned and left to die or after finally getting back one's ship after ten years, they were prime examples of appropriate timing, but now was not was certainly not an occasion that merited a bawdy rendition of A Pirates Life For Me.

Instead, he turned his mind back to his task. He wriggled a bit in his seat so that the back of the chair scratched the itch on his back. Settling back again, he lifted his chin and met the other man's gaze. "The name's John. John Daniels. But you can call me Jack." He had decided not to give his real full name but it would be safer to stick to Jack. "And you would be Captain…?"

The man cleared his throat. "Tha' would be Cap'n Clavell. And wha' is it that ye want? Ye said ye needed t' speak to me." Jack took his time answering, alternatively making a closer inspection of this Captain Clavell.

He was a large burly fellow and looked perfectly capable of hacking of heads and skewering people. He had a thick neck, a shaggy mat of dark brown hair that reached to his shoulders and a scraggly beard, sporting some graying hairs. Hard, cruel – but not unintelligent – eyes observed him from over a strong nose, though they looked almost strained as though he had been ill recently.

Then the ship rolled again and Jack knew. Captain Clavell had been sea sick.

Jack held back a snort of laughter. He had been able to tell that the crew hadn't been at sea long, most likely learning only by trial and error – it had to have been sheer luck that they were still alive today and not at the bottom of the ocean judging by the way the ship was being sailed. But the thought of a sea sick captain was almost too much.

The loud sound of a fist striking a hard surface with strength brought Jack's attention back to the present. It seemed Clavell had finally lost patience. Jack smiled grimly and continued. "As I said you can call me Jack. Contrary to popular belief both amongst both your crew and the other hostages, I am not a wealthy upper-class landlubber." He gave a dramatic pause.

"Well then wha' are ye?" Once again the other man proved his impatience, though he couldn't keep the hint of interest from creeping into his voice.

Jack shrugged and leaned back, casually stating "A pirate." He watched Clavell's expression with amusement. "And I wish to join your crew." The other's blatant shock and disbelief brought a sparkle to Jack's eyes as he watched the man struggle to bring himself back under control.

Getting up, Captain Clavell began to pace, eyeing Jack doubtfully from through narrowed lids. The effect was somewhat marred, however, when the jolting of the ship caused him to scramble to keep his balance.

A small snigger escaped Jack's lips unchecked, stopping abruptly when a venomous glare from Clavell reminded him that while he was on the other man's ship and at his mercy it might not be such a good idea to anger him. Earning the Captain's animosity would not make his plan run any smoother. Quite the opposite in fact.

When there was still no response forthcoming, Jack figured that an attempt to ease the atmosphere wouldn't go amiss.

Twirling a hand absently, he began to talk. "You see I had just left the ship I was currently on and was waiting for a ship to take me back to Tortuga. When I heard about the wedding I figured such ripe pickings don't turn up often. So I managed to knick some suitable clothes and I snuck into the reception, sat through it and then went to the after-party."

Clavell was still looking skeptical so Jack decided to give him some validation of his story.

Reaching into the inside pocket of his vest, he withdrew numerous objects and deposited them in the middle of the table. "And I tell you, there was an abundance of various valuables just waiting for someone like me to come along."  On closer inspection they proved to be a finely crafted pocket watch, a large ruby dangling from a delicate gold chain and a ruffled piece of white lace.

Jack hoped Elizabeth would never hear about this 'borrowing without permission,' but what could he say? Wandering to and fro at the wedding there had just been so many people from the well-to-do, pompous community that he hated. None of them with any inkling that their unguarded pockets were being cheerfully plundered by the pirate in their midst. It was just too tempting an opportunity to even consider turning it down. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Leaning down to finger the items, Clavell lifted up the ruby necklace and examined it. Apparently finding some satisfaction within the crimson facets, he pocketed it and grinned at Jack. "Ye wan' to join th' crew? Done." He held his hand and Jack rose to accept it, giving a firm shake. "I'll get Big Dan t' take ye to ye hammock. Ye won' wan' to work in those clothes I'll wager, so I'll scrounge up somethin' fer ye."

The captain gave a shout and the cabin door opened and Jack looked up…and up…and up. Big Dan indeed – the man was a bloody giant. Clavell spoke to the man directly. "Dan this is Jack Daniels. He be joinin' th' crew. Show 'im to a spare hammock."

Jack turned to follow Big Dan but paused at Clavell's voice. "Hey. Jack. Wha' ship was it tha' ye left?"

He swiveled back to face the captain. Jack grinned. "The Black Pearl." Jack turned around again and followed in Big Dan's shadow, leaving a very stunned man in his wake.

– – – – –

Captain Clavell stood stock still, utterly taken aback.

Even a recently turned water rat such as himself had heard of the Black Pearl. She was perhaps the most feared ship to ever set sail, along with her legendary captain, the renowned Jack Sparrow. And now the newest member of his crew had worked on her and sailed under Sparrow himself.

The fellow really was quite strange, wasn't he? This Daniels guy. There was something about the man that said he wasn't your average crew member. Clavell shrugged the feeling aside. If he followed orders well enough, Clavell might make him a mate or helmsman or some such. There was no need to give the man a swelled head, but even Clavell could recognize when they needed a person with experience on the job. If he didn't do well or got too bolshy then they could always throw him overboard. A pirate such as it appeared that he was wasn't likely to fetch a ransom at all let alone a generous one.

A greedy smirk curled the corners of his lips and an expression of unadulterated lust crossed his features. Even if Daniels had now been proved of no use in the money department, the others would provide him with a pretty penny. All he had to do was deliver the ransom notes and wait. He would be rich.

And while he was waiting there was no reason he couldn't take advantage of the power he held over his prisoners. He had already had that girl separated from the rest.

His strides grew purposeful as he headed toward the locked side door that led to another small room.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Thanks for reading everyone. Please review because I do like to know if people are reading this and if they enjoyed it or not. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms. Any reviewers are relentlessly well-regarded. Thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter: Alaawya, peachfreak, A Sly Fan, Lyn, A Nonny Moose, Opranoodlemantra, Savvyness and all of you who went back and reviewed the first two chapters.

By the way, I don't know why the lines and asterisks I usually use won't upload but if anyone knows why, can they please let me know cause that's twice in a row now that's happened.

I should update soon – I'm trying to do it every three days but if I can't please be patient. I promise not to leave it too long.

Lotsa love…

**FalconWing.**


	5. Of Investigations and Waiting

**Before The Dawn******

**Chapter V: Of Investigations and Waiting**

By FalconWing

Anamaria was troubled. She had managed to hide it from the rest of the crew but she could not keep the truth from herself, no matter how hard to tried to deny it.

It was now two mornings after the wedding and Jack had still not returned.

At first she had dismissed him, her rationale being that Jack would be Jack and knowing him he was probably still sleeping off the hangover he would undoubtedly have acquired after a whole night of drinking. But then noon of the day after had come and gone, and then the sun had set and there had still been no sign of their captain.

He had told them all to expect him at dawn the next day and here it was more than twenty four hours after that specified time. Now Anamaria knew that Jack was his own man and the exception to every rule, but when it came to risking ship and crew he was always punctual. Whatever was keeping Jack, it couldn't be good.

Anamaria's brow knitted in concern. For all that she often held the affectation that she found the man incorrigible, she knew she had a soft spot where the irredeemable rogue was concerned.

And that's why, after taking a last look at the sun, she decided to go ashore herself.

She made her way down the deck towards where Gibbs was standing, stopping beside him, patiently waiting for him to wrench his attention away from the flask in his hand. When he finally did notice her, he started in surprise.

"Gibbs, I'm going ashore to look for Jack." Her worry was evident in her clipped tones and frequent glances to the spot Jack had last been seen, rowing around the head. She didn't even wait for a reply, merely stepping off toward one the remaining row boats. Gibbs gulped and hurried after her.

"Are you sure that's wise? I mean you're not exactly unnoticeable. How many women do you see in Port Royal walking around in men's clothing?"

Anamaria stopped and turned so abruptly that Gibbs very nearly walked straight into her. "The last time I looked, _Mr_ Gibbs, it was I who was second mate and you the quartermaster, not the other way around." Her steely voice and hard gaze certainly had him looking very much like he regretted his words. Good. The less Gibbs got in the way, and the sooner she could find her captain, the sooner they could be back on the open seas doing what they did best – plundering the ships of those who didn't deserve the wealth they had.

Getting into the boat, she allowed a few members of the crew to lower her into the water. Then, picking up the oars, she started rowing in the path Jack had taken only two days earlier.

It took her a good twenty minutes and, used to the work as she was, her shoulders were slightly stiff by the time she reached her goal.

The docks. Pulling up, she jumped out and turned to tie it up. As she finished doing so, something to her right caught her eye. Straightening up for a better view, she saw with some consternation Jack's own boat. The fact that it was tied clumsily suggested that it had not been Jack who had tied it but it could be that he had merely been in too great a hurry to bother doing so himself.

She shook her head softly to clear her thoughts and made her way along the dock. Her boot heels sounded loud as she strode briskly toward the shore. She caught a few snickers at her clothing but the lift of a chin and a well-aimed glare soon had them turning their heads away suitably chastened.

As the harbormaster approached she unashamedly used one of Jack's common practices and threw the man three shillings informing him to "forget the name."

She smirked and continued on her way as the man struggled to contain his pleasure, fumbling as he hastily stowed the money in his purse, calling after her with his customary "welcome to Port Royal Miss Smith."

Surmising that the best place for information was a tavern, she made her way to a place called the Hawk's Talon. Here she ordered a drink and sat in a corner listening to scraps of conversation. After a while, having discovered nothing but everything she _didn't_ want to know about seducing a tavern wench, she paid and left.

Approximately six bars and five and a half rums later, she was seated at the back table of the Royal Bequest, debating whether or not to return to the Pearl. So far the only thing she had achieved was to spend money on drink she didn't have the time to enjoy.

At least, she was considering it until the entrance of two Navy men in pristine red and white uniform.

She didn't know what it was about them that made her shuffle over in her seat and prick her ears for snippets of their exchange but she was extremely glad she had when she caught onto what they were saying.

"…heard they took some of the guests, leaving the rest locked in a room with the servants. Mr and Mrs Turner, the Commodore and about thirteen others all gone," The taller one was saying.

The younger man butted in. "Wasn't there a body found too in the streets going down to the dock?"

Anamaria's throat constricted. Jack was smarter than he looked but he did have the tendency to let his tongue run away on him. If he had said something that didn't please these people – and knowing Jack that wouldn't be hard for him to do – it wouldn't have been difficult for them to simply lodge a bullet in his brain.

But she heaved an internal sigh of relief as the older man replied, "Yes, I believe that was Dr Wittenby. I don't know what we're going to do for a doctor now, but I'm sure Lieutenant Gillette will sort something out. The governor won't; I heard he was in a right state. It looks as though they've been taken for a ransom; else why not take him as well? This is the second time in just over a year that his daughter's been kidnapped by pirates."

The young man was all ears now. "Really, I haven't heard about that. I've only just transferred from St Kitts. What happened?" This was all it took to set the older fellow into the whole tale, and Anamaria got up to leave, having got what she wanted and not really wishing to hear the whole spiel. Most of it was probably utter rubbish anyway.

She drained her glass and signaled to the serving maid, dropping a few coins on the table. Then she marched purposefully out the door without a backward look.

She made her way back to the docks and untied both boats, winding the rope from Jack's around the stern of her own. Then she rowed back the Black Pearl where she was hoisted back aboard and bombarded with many a question from faithful shipmates. She told them what she had overheard in its entirety and there was unanimous agreement.

They would head to Tortuga where, like as not, the other crew would be headed also. Anamaria made her way to helm of the ship and watched as ropes were secured and the sails unfurled.

"Hold on tight, Jack. We're coming for you." She glanced at the sails as they filled with wind and the ship eagerly leaped forward. Her sleek black hull sliced through the waves, picking up speed as she was steered toward the distant horizon.

"The Pearl's coming for you."

– – – – –

Elizabeth sat huddled in the corner of the small room she was trapped in. He gaze was fixed out the small window she was sitting under but she didn't see the azure ripples of the ocean sparkling in the sun or the wisps of white cloud that drifted lazily across the blue expanse of sky.

"…kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot…" She sang slowly and sorrowfully, pausing every now and then to clear the lump from her throat. From a distance she didn't look much different, only a bit disheveled. It wasn't until you got closer that the tear tracks making their way down her cheeks were visible and though her eyes had long since dried there was a distance to them that anyone who knew her well would recognize. A fading purple bruise was only just evident on the left of her jaw.

Her mind rebelled at the harshness of reality. She was married. She was meant to be experiencing the joys of newly-wedded bliss. Instead here she was, trapped in a conjoining room to the captain's cabin.

And to think she had been panicking when the merchantman hired to deliver her wedding dress had never arrived. God knows what had happened to it. They had had to scrounge around for something to wear, but in the end she had winded up wearing the dress her mother had married her father in.

Now she sat in the dirty and rumpled remains of that once beautiful gown as she waited on the whim of some barbarous scoundrel.

There had been one point where she could have sworn she had heard the murmur of Jack's voice, but that couldn't be. Jack was captain of the Black Pearl again now and would be busy out looting some unlucky merchant, not conspiring with this Captain Clavell. She would have probably pondered that thought a bit more, but it was soon after that that the captain had come to 'visit' her.

The man was worse than Barbossa. He had marched in, grabbed her chin and roughly forced his mouth on hers. Her first instinct had been to knee him in the groin and this she had done with considerable force.

He had doubled up in pain, face contorted. When he had recovered sufficiently he had backhanded her across her mouth before stalking out and slamming and relocking the door. She hadn't seen him since.

And now she sat huddling with her arms hugging her knees to her chest – waiting for him to return. She knew he would.

And next time she might not be so lucky.

"…drink up me hearties, yo ho…"

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Hey, thanks for reading again. Its great to know if people like my story, don't like it, or think there are some aspects that need improvement so please review. A special thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter: Oneiriad, bubblehead, Lyn, Beregond'sGirl, LunarianPrincess, ErinRua, dshael, peachfreak, Alaawya, neaky-noo Savvyness and Anita Lawn (BTW I'm quite fond of that paragraph myself and that's why I left it in their even though it is kind of random). Anyone who reviews will be honored for eternity.

Next chapter should be up pretty soon. I get really annoyed when other people leave me on cliffhangers for ages so I make a marked effort not to do the same to others. Hope to get lots of reviews – hint hint, nudge nudge.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.**


	6. Of Storms and Realizations

**Before The Dawn******

**Chapter VI: Of Storms and Realizations**

By FalconWing

It had been nearly a week since he had had his discussion with Captain Clavell. Jack had done what he was told, worked his hands to the bone and been sure to keep an ear out for any information concerning Will, Elizabeth and the others.

Word had somehow gotten around that he had served on the Black Pearl and the rest of the crew now treated him with a fear born of awe. They didn't defer to him at all, they just kept out of his way, sending fearful glances towards him if he singled them out for something. This was quite often as it had somehow become his unofficial job to correct anyone seen doing anything incorrectly – he probably would have done so anyway out of old habit but for his wish to keep a low profile.

He wondered how old Norrington was taking it. It wasn't often that a Commodore of the British Royal Navy found himself cooling his heels behind bars. Jack couldn't help but think that it was one sight he would like to see – after all, while he may have had regrets about it, the man _had_ tried to hang him on numerous occasions.

But unfortunately, he had not yet been assigned guard duty. He had been provided with suitable clothing and spent much of his day running about on deck or up in the rigging. He had been aloft even more recently: ever since the man on lookout had slipped climbing down again and been lost to the sea. The rest of the crew now regarded the tall, swaying masts with trepidation boarding on terror.

Not that Jack minded.

He was currently seated in the crows nest at the top of the main mast. It had been a while since he had had lookout duty and he had time to rediscover his love for the task. While it wasn't quite the same as standing at the helm of your own ship, it still came pretty close.

Up here, the calls back on deck were another world away. The rock of the masts was soothing and he felt cocooned in a shell of peace and tranquility. Here where there was only him, the wind and the sea, he was free to be himself – to be Jack Sparrow. Not John Daniels or even _Captain_ Sparrow. Just…Jack.

He never would have thought he would appreciate not having everyone hanging on his next word, his next command. But he did. Now that wasn't to stay that if the chance came to be back on the Pearl, standing at the wheel he wouldn't take it.

Of course he bloody well would! The Pearl was everything to him and he knew her inside out, from bow to stern, from the tip of the main mast to the bottom of the keel. She was his life and when the time came for him to leave here and get back to her he would leave with no regrets. He was just waiting for the opportune moment.

He didn't know what Clavell thought he was doing. The Captain hadn't deigned to inform Jack of his plan. For the past six days they seemed to have been simply circling Jamaica. Jack assumed that he was waiting for a reply to a ransom note, though he had no idea how they would receive it out here in the middle of the ocean. Surely it would have been easier to drop anchor in some obscure bay nearby.

Also interesting would be how the note was delivered in the first place. He had observed the man and his crew closely from the moment they had burst in through the door and he had seen no one sneak away to leave a message behind. He knew that it was highly possible he was wrong but he liked to think that when he put his mind to it, nothing could escape his attention. If this was the case then the missive had been sent at some point after they had boarded the ship.

The ship herself was called the Jolly Roger. Jack snorted in amusement. Not exactly the most original name, but then what could one expect from a bunch of landlubbers?

The crew themselves weren't all that bad, he amended. Well…some of them. Big Dan and a few others were all right as was the cabin boy, Tom. Now Tom did look to him for direction and Jack had found that he didn't have the heart to turn the lad away. The boy seemed to idolize him, taking his lead and unconsciously imitating his mannerisms.

Even now as Jack glanced down towards the deck Tom was below, waving cheerfully upwards. He turned as if to climb up and join Jack but then the second mate, Hughes, barked something at him and Tom took one last wistful glimpse up the mast before scampering off.

The boy was one of the few who would climb the rigging and the only person on board save Jack who did so with pleasure. Like as not the lad wanted to hear more stories. When he wasn't badgering Jack to teach him the sword, he was sure to be bombarding him with questions about his escapades. While he enjoyed this, Jack had to be careful that what he told was not revealing anything he couldn't afford to have known.

He exhaled noisily and looked around. Stretching out as far as the horizon was the cerulean blue of the Caribbean waters. But he knew that the crystalline water and clear blue skies could be deceiving. The Caribbean was well known for its quick-silver weather changes and the wild squalls that blew in from nowhere, destroying everything in their paths.

And Jack, sensing the change in wind as he breathed in, knew that on its way was just one-such of said wild squalls.

–          –       –       –          –

Will groaned miserably as another huge wave sent the ship reeling and more water leaking through the small hole that resided in the hull, near where Jack had been seated.

Where Jack had been seated before he had got some harebrained idea to go flouncing off to the captain. Who knew what had happened to him? For all Will knew his friend could have been thrown over the side, had his throat slit, been impaled on the pointy end of a sword, or met his end in any other number of gruesome manners.

To stop his thoughts from traveling that dreaded road he transferred his worry and anxiety to anger.

The man was impossible! What on earth had spurred the pirate to go haring off on his own to carry out some lunatic plan he had thought up? And all because in his pigheaded stubbornness he had been determined to be present at a wedding to which he had not been invited. He had to be the worst pirate Will had ever seen.

But that had been the wrong thing to think. He could almost see Elizabeth, sitting on the beach with that amused smile on her face as she told him with a perfect imitation of how Norrington had tried to snub Jack the first time they had met.

Elizabeth. He tried to hold onto the hope that she was unharmed but that hope faded with every passing day. His head refused to even entertain the thought that she was not alive and well but he knew in his heart that that was extremely unlikely what with her being taken individually and remained so for what must be almost a week.

_All while William Turner Junior sat on his backside in a dingy brig and brooded,_ he told himself cruelly. He had sat in here full of self pity and all the while the crew had been hurting his wife and killing his best friend.

The ship rocked heavily again and a loud thump overhead indicated that someone had just landed above him – probably the lookout coming down to assist. There were a few purposeful footsteps as the person began to stride away. A strong baritone rung out over the wind and a gasp escaped the lips of the young man below decks as he recognized with shock the rough commanding voice of his friend for the second time in one week.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –  –

Sorry, I know that was quite short and not much happened but I promise more will happen next chapter. I was just running out of time and had a bit of writers block so as you can see any reviews will be welcomed with open arms. Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: Anita Lawn (and no I'm not using it every chapter, it just seemed to fit. It must be pretty funny to have someone start singing in an internet café. Lol), peachfreak, A Sly Fan, LunarianPrincess, Alaawya and Savvyness.

Those who review will be worshipped for eternity.

Love anyone who reads…

**FalconWing.******


	7. Of Promotions and Destinations

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter VII: Of Promotions and Destinations**

By FalconWing

It took the rest of the day and almost the whole night for the storm to blow itself out. When the storm had finally subsided Jack had sent men down into the hold to check the damage below the waterline while he had counted off the crew.

Jack knew he shouldn't be ordering them about but at the first sign of the gale the order on deck had given way to panicked confusion and disarray. It had been habit to step in and straighten them out and they had recognized the note of authority in his voice and obeyed. He could hardly step back now and let the hard-won calm dissolve again.

The captain had yet to emerge from his cabin since the beginning of the storm. Jack curled his lip in contempt.

He was probably busy throwing up, Jack thought derisively. If the man had difficulty coping with the rock of a ship in a calm ocean, he would not like to see how the captain had reacted to the tempestuous seas of yesterday.

So when the door to the captain's cabin slammed open, everyone looked up in surprise. Clavell stood in the doorway and while he looked slightly green he appeared otherwise composed and self-possessed. The crew shrunk back slightly as his hard gaze swept over them all before coming to rest on Jack's unruffled form.

"Ye. Daniels." He cocked his head back towards the room. "A word if ye please." His choice of phrase may have been polite but his tone of voice was cold and calculating. Jack nodded in acquiescence and obediently followed the man as he turned and re-entered the cabin.

Clavell sat down again at the table and Jack resumed the chair he had occupied for the duration of his last visit here. The captain didn't speak immediately, instead he eyes went strangely distant as though his thoughts had turned inwards. Jack leaned back, resting his right ankle on his left knee and drummed his fingers on the table to remind the man that he was waiting.

Clavell looked him squarely in the eye and lifted a brow in inquiry. "Ye're th' expert. What's th' damage like?"

Jack didn't miss a beat. "Three men lost to the sea and four injured but able to work. As to the ship, the mizzen mast seems a bit weakened. It could break at any time and by the looks of things there's been some damage to the rudder. She's not responding to the helm as sharp as I'd like. I'd advise we make landfall somewhere to fix her up. I recommend Tortuga. I have some associates I can contact for good supplies at reasonable prices if need be. But that's just my suggestion. It's up to you."

"Tortuga 'tis then." Clavell tapped his chin thoughtfully with his words but his piercing grey stare remained fixed on Jack's. "I don' pretend t' be a ship person an' I am obliged t' trust ye in this but if I find out ye've been playin' me fer a fool…" The captain left the sentence hanging but his serious expression and the dangerous glint in his eyes left Jack with no illusions as to what would become of him if Clavell did find out.

Jack didn't rush to assure him that that would never be the case – such babblings were the mark of a player. Instead he met the captain's gaze calmly and nodded gravely to show he understood.

Clavell sat up straighter as if to mark a change in the mood of the conversation. "Now ye said we lost Hughes an' th' helmsman over th' side?" Actually Jack had said no such thing but he nodded again in agreement anyway. It would be interesting to find out how the man knew without even venturing out on deck until only minutes ago.

His contemplations were interrupted when Clavell stated calmly "I would like ye t' take both positions." Jack started in surprise and then cursed himself for being caught of guard.

"What?!" The startled exclamation was all he could manage. Surely the other man didn't trust him that much already? Clavell leaned back and studied Jack contemplatively. Coming to a decision, he took a deep breath and without any more ado, stated simply-

"I'll be straight wi' ye. Like I said, I'm not a ship person. Neither are the rest of me crew. We used t' be highwaymen but it wasn't makin' fast cash so we switched t' piracy. Ye _are_ a ship person and ye th' only ship person on this ship. That means ye need to be in a position to tell th' others when they're doin' somethin' wrong. I don't trust ye enough t' be firs' mate and seein' as we jus' lost our second it's a perfect opportunity. Ye don't have any objections t' tha' do ye?"

Jack fixed a gracious smile on his face as he shook his head. "Of course not. It's just a bit of a shock that's all – though certainly a good one. Helmsman _and_ second mate! Whew! It's no often one gets an offer like that."

He made a look of awe cross his face at the idea of being, not only second mate, but helmsman as well. He couldn't believe it! It was definitely a better position to be in for helping Will, Elizabeth and the others escape but he wasn't sure of Clavell's motives. He didn't strike Jack as the type of man who would give away high positions to those he barely knew a week. There had to be some hidden motivation behind all this.

But he didn't have a clue as to what that motivation was and until he did he would just have to tread lightly and put all of his new found power to good use. Jack abruptly looked down at the hand that was suddenly thrust in his direction. "Do we 'ave an accord?" Jack accepted the hand and gave it a firm shake.

"That we do."

Letting go of Jack's hand Clavell settled back down in his chair. "Good then. Now. D'ye fancy some rum t' make it official?"

Rum? Accord? The man must have been reading a buccaneering guide to life to suddenly start coming out with all these piratical ideas and phrases. If, of course, the man could read, which he thought highly unlikely. Jack himself had only learned to make it all the easier for navigating. And that had taken long enough with him being fully prepared to quit on too many occasions to count.

Pulling himself back to the present he didn't even pause to consider. "That'd be great." After all, who was he turn down a free drink, no matter who the supplier was.

He watched curiously as Clavell strode over to the side-door that Jack had noticed before. Unlocking then opening it, the man leaned in and spoke briefly to the person within. "Grab some rum from tha' chest over there an' bring it out 'ere. Ye can serve fer us so long as there's no funny stuff from ye."

Clavell turned back and made his way back to his chair. Jack had to admit he wasn't overly surprised when after some loud banging it was Elizabeth who entered the room, head down, carrying the bottles.

She looked up and spotted him. He saw the moment that acknowledgement turned to recognition and a look of utter astonishment dawned on her face. Her jaw dropped and her grip on the bottles weakened so that she almost dropped them. Jack was just thankful that Clavell was too busy discussing the route to Tortuga to notice either his captive's stunned expression of Jack's own inattention.

He forced himself to focus on Clavell's words, adding a few comments himself and sending a meaningful look in Elizabeth's direction. He hoped she would restrain her shock soon and regain her self-control, before the captain noticed.

–          –       –       –          –

Elizabeth looked in disbelief at the man before her. She knew that her jaw was slack and she could feel the look of surprise and incredulity that had taken residence on her face. She dimly noticed him throw a significant glance at her but she remained rooted to the spot.

Jack Sparrow was standing in the same room as her, deep in a cordial chat with her captor.

A part of her wanted to demand to know exactly what on Earth he was doing here but another part – the part that saw him shoot another look towards her – wisely counseled her to wait. She didn't know the circumstances of his visit.

Struggling with herself, she wrestled back her control and poise. It wasn't easy but she managed it. She stepped forward and placed the glasses on the table before filling them with rum. She saw Jack's slight expression of relief as she recovered her composure and smiled thinly, tuning into their conversation.

"Righ' then. Tortuga it is," Clavell was saying. "After this I'll let ye return t' ye duties helmsman." Helmsman? Briefly Elizabeth wondered what she was missing out on but then Jack's smug voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Come now, don't you go forgetting the second mate part. That's the more important bit."

Elizabeth's careful maintained calm almost evaporated as she took that in. Second mate and helmsman?! Something wasn't right here. Elizabeth knew that after all the trouble he had gone to get her back Jack wouldn't leave the Pearl willingly. She also knew that she would have heard if the Black Pearl had gone down.

Suddenly Jack's sidelong glances took on new meaning. What if Jack wasn't here by his own choice? He may be a prisoner too. A prisoner with status perhaps, but a prisoner nonetheless. And that meant he probably had a plan. He could help her and the others. He could help Will.

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders. No doubt some big escape was going to go down and she resolved to be part of it.

– – – – – – – – – – – – –  –

Thank you for reading again. Don't forget to review though. Reviews are great. Thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter: Alaawya, Anita Lawn, A Sly Fan, crazydominodragongirl, Ebony, Savvyness, Alyx, Kanaloas Wrath and Beregond'sGirl (and no I didn't mean it to be Clevell – just I typo I've fixed now. Thanks for letting me know though).

Anyone who reviews will be cherished ceaselessly.

Love you all…

**FalconWing.******


	8. Of Governors and Ransoms

**Before The Dawn******

**Chapter VIII: Of Governors and Ransoms**

By FalconWing

Although he didn't know it, it was at the very moment that Jack Sparrow, now of the Jolly Roger, was given his promotion that Governor Weatherby Swann received the note by way of airmail.

He was sitting at a desk in the study in the midst of attempting to pen letters to all the neighbouring colonies, beseeching aid in the rescue of his daughter, the Commodore and any other citizens taken. It should be noted, however, that "in the midst" as a phrase should be interpreted as a relative term.

In fact, he hadn't started – he had no idea what to write. Numerous balls of screwed up parchment littered the floor in the immediate vicinity of the desk and the current endeavor was not going very well. He had not managed to get even a "Dear Governor." Several times now he had gone to write something only to find the ink dry on the end of his quill. By the time he was ready to put pen to paper the train of thought would be gone.

In its place would be the last images he had seen of his beautiful daughter; proudly standing by her new husband, looking up at him with love sparkling in her eyes and joy painted on her face; her eyes dulled with dread as she took one last fearful glance over her shoulder at him, before she was dragged down the hallway.

Elizabeth was all he had left. His wife had been taken from him. He would not let the same fate claim his daughter.

But he didn't know how to stop it.

So he sat at his desk with his blank parchment and dry quill, surrounded by rumpled scripts and despaired.

At the very least he wished that they had left Turner behind. While he had hoped Elizabeth would make a better marriage, he could not deny that if it hadn't for the boy then she likely wouldn't have been around to be captured again in the first place. He may have some way of getting her back. His saving her life was really one of the only reasons he hadn't resented Elizabeth's decision to wed the boy – that and the fact that she was his only daughter and he wanted nothing more than to see her happy. If it took Turner to make that so, then so be it.

A commotion and what sounded awfully like squawking, came from out in the front entrance breaking into his musings. He distinctly heard the disgruntled exclamations of the new butler. "You bloody bird, shoo! Get outside, you dratted thing!" Really, the man must learn to curb his tongue if he hoped to keep his positions in such a distinguished household.

When the clatter refused to cease, the Governor heaved a sigh and replaced the quill in the inkpot. Pushing back his chair, he put everything in order before making his way through the living room and into the parlor. He opened his mouth to reprove the butler but the sight that greeted him was enough to shock him into silence.

A bird that looked to his eyes to be some sort of cross between a parrot and a chicken circled the room, madly dodging the butler's pathetic efforts to grab it. The table had been knocked over and the vase that had rested atop it had crashed to the ground, leaving a spreading puddle of water.

The bird swooped low in a dive that took it very near Governor Swann. He ducked, his arms instinctively coming up to shield his face but something caught his eye. He straightened and took a closer look. It was an envelope. His brow furrowed in a puzzled frown. Something told him that he needed to open that envelope but he couldn't figure out what. Why would someone put something in an envelope, attach it to a bird and send it to his house?

The penny dropped.

It had to be about Elizabeth. That bird carried his daughter's future clasped between its grubby little claws.

The shock that held his body immobile fled in the wake of the adrenaline that flooded his veins. He _had_ to get that envelope and the message that he knew was in it. He sprang forwards with an athleticism that belied his age. The butler was left gaping at his employer and even Weatherby himself would have been amazed at his own agility had he not had more pressing matters close at hand.

As the bird passed over again he made a jump for it that, while compared to the younger generation may be ungainly, was really quite astonishing for a man of his age and…physique.

Astonishing as it was however, it did nothing towards grabbing the bird. The Governor was frantically waiting for an opportunity to give it another go when the animal breezed past overhead and dropped the envelope right into the small pool of water created by the smashed vase.

Governor Swann hurried over to it, nearly bowling the butler over in his haste to reach the missive. He ripped open the now soggy packet and pulled out the note within. His eyes flicked over it, steadily bulging out of their sockets more and more as he read it, re-read it and then read it again.

He looked up and met the butler's curious gaze, the note fluttering to ground again at the loosening of his grip. His habitual austere equanimity long gone, his eyes now burned with a feverish intensity in his pale face. He now had only one task occupying his mind and all his powers of intellect – while admittedly not all that big – were bent on it. Elizabeth's rescue was paramount and in the absence of Commodore Norrington the duty fell to the recently promoted Captain Gillette.

Purpose now firmly assured he stepped out the house and started off down the driveway on foot. It was time to _do_ something even if it was only to establish their most likely course and scout until some trace of them was found. He thought about the note and readjusted his wig agitatedly.

He didn't have a thousand gold pieces, let alone ten thousand. He was a Governor, not a king.

– – – – –

Back at the house, the butler still stood staring out the door at the retreating form of the Governor in bewilderment. Where was he going? He hadn't announced his departure or called for a carriage, merely struck off on foot. A squawk from overhead made him raise his head in time to see the strange bird launch itself off the staircase banister and out the door.

He bent down to start tidying up the broken vase. Lying half immersed in the spilled water was the neglected message that had caused the Governor to leave in such a hurry. Intrigued, he picked it up and looked at it.

Although he couldn't read what it said, he could tell that the writing was neat and precise. He could also make out that the scrawled signature at the bottom had not been done by the same person that had written the rest the letter. Shaking his head and berating his own illiteracy he set the paper aside and continued to collect all the shattered pieces of china.

And the ransom note was left, discarded but not forgotten, the tidy handwriting of someone obviously well educated staring petulantly at the ceiling waiting for a response to its threat.

_Governor Swann,_

_I offer you a deal. In exchange for a total of ten thousand gold pieces we are willingly to return unharmed Elizabeth Turner nee Swann._

_If you decline this generous proposition then your daughter will be publicly defiled and then executed with the remainder of your subjects also in our possession._

_To contact us, send to the Jolly Mary tavern in Tortuga and address it to myself._

_Captain Clavell of the Jolly Roger._

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –  – – – –

Thank you for reading. Don't worry, more Jack and Anamaria next chapter and it should hopefully be longer too and with more happening. Please take the time to review. Any and all reviewers will be held in continuous adoration. Also if you notice any spelling or grammatical errors I've missed, please let me know so I can correct them. An enormous thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your comments and criticism was hugely appreciated.

                                                                                **Reviewer's thanks**

Valk: Don't worry, I'm certainly not planning on abandoning this story. It's my first real story with a plotline and everything and I'm certainly going to see it through to the end.

Coolpuella: It's good to know people actually enjoy the plotline. Thanks for all your nice comments and ongoing reviews.

The Phantom: Thanks for the praise and I'm glad people aren't getting their backs up over the fact that I have no original female characters coming in and stealing Jack's heart. I know other people may but I just don't see him as someone who would fall in love and settle down with anyone.

Crazydominodragongirl: Nice to know I have people waiting. Thank you for all your reviews. And I agree with you when you say Jack won't talk just because he's drunk (although I have to say he does have a finite tolerance level – after all he passed out on the island with Elizabeth – he just doesn't lose control over his mouth for a minor reason such as intoxication).

Opranoodlemantra: Interesting name you've got there. Thanks heaps for all your reviews and kind remarks.

Savvyness: Thanks for all the reviews and I tried not to leave you hanging for too long.

MiRoRmInX: Hey Bailes thanks for the reviews and I can't believe I made all those grammatical errors. Eeek. I went back and corrected what I hope was them all. And I did pay you back – look on my bio page.

Alaawya: Yes it would help having a higher status, so you may wonder why Clavell put him there, eh?

LunarianPrincess: Thank you so much for all your reviews. Jack does have an exceptional ability to run rings around people when they lease expect it doesn't he?

Quiet Infinity: Aww, getting nice comments always makes you feel better. Thank you.

Oodles of love to you all…

**FalconWing****.**


	9. Of Secrecy and Close Calls

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter IX: Of Secrecy and Close Calls**

By FalconWing

James Norrington was not in a very good mood.

Commodores of the British Royal Navy were _not_ supposed to be held captive in dark, dank brigs and with only one meal of congealed slop and murky water for daily nourishment. It was just something that didn't happen. It was unacceptable, intolerable and just not dignified.

And he was certain that there were other people jailed farther down the row of cells. He appeared to be at the very end and from here could distinguish near to nothing: no sounds of movement as the guards changed watch, no footsteps from above, not even the resonating echo of voices raised commandingly. The only noise he came close to hearing was the resounding clang of the bell signaling the end of a watch.

He didn't know the young lady that shared his cell and she offered no conversation. She merely sat and stared blankly at the bilge water shivering constantly. Norrington couldn't help but suspect that her psyche had been affected by the ordeal – that or she was just a simpleton to start with.

With no enthralling discussions in the offing there was really not much with which to occupy his mind, he had to admit that he found himself quite bored. He had long since abandoned attempts to keep himself looking presentable as an impossible task; the storm three nights previously had seen to that.

Instead he often found his brain compensating for this lack by creating possible scenarios. One situation it seemed particularly fixated on was an image of Jack Sparrow leaning insolently against the other side of the very bars that caged him in, mouth curled in that insufferable smirk, eyes flashing with an all-too-familiar mocking glint. It reminded Norrington of a time when it had been the other way around; the pirate had been the one behind bars and it had been him who had stood outside the cell satisfied that this was the day that Captain Jack Sparrow had _almost _escaped.

A clanging on the bars brought his attention back to the present and he looked up to see the current guard standing by the door with their what passed for a meal in this position he found himself in. Instead of opening the door to deposit the bowls of gunk, though, he somehow managed to twist the somewhat shabby plates through the bars, followed by a mug of water each.

Norrington scrambled to his feet and reached over to accept them. He was dimly aware of the guard turning to leave but was already making his way over to his cellmate's side. He placed the bowl and mug in one of her hands and wrapped the other hand around the spoon that lay inside and waited a moment to be sure she would eat it. Eventually she noticed the food that had been left in her possession and began to spoon food into her own mouth. She did so without emotion and seemingly without tasting it.

He could hardly bring himself to eat the stuff. How condescending to go from numerous dishes of delicious meat and sweet delicacies to this…this _slop._ It would almost be better to go without.

But his stomach rumbled its protest, putting paid to that idea. He heaved a sigh of resignation as he stirred the peachy muck. There was nothing else for it. It was eat or starve and he had every intention of living to see another of those magnificent Caribbean sunsets from the superior vantage point of the Dauntless' quarterdeck.

He scooped up a spoonful and swallowed it, though not without a grimace of distaste crossing his face. He shoveled another dollop into his mouth. This was but a small chapter in his life, soon another would dawn and all he had to do was live through this one.

–          –       –       –          –

Jack felt more than heard the slight groaning of the ship beneath his feet and adjusted his grip on the wheel accordingly, without even thinking about it; it was second nature to him. The Jolly, as he had begun to think of her, shifted ever so slightly, making the hull slice through the water just that little bit easier and he continued his musings without pause.

This was his second day in his more prominent role aboard ship and even taking into account the damaged mast they would be arriving in Tortuga sometime this evening. It wasn't either of these issues that occupied his thoughts, though.

It had late last night and he had been alone on the quarterdeck when Tom had dared to approach him. Jack had known something was wrong from the lad's nervous scurrying and the way his eyes flicked constantly back and forth. When the boy had only stood before him wringing his hands Jack had lent over to ruffle his hair.

"What's the matter, lad?

But Tom had been more nervous than Jack had suspected and only managed a trembling "Y…yesterday…Brock…I saw…Hughes and Mackaroy…pushed." Jack frowned and keeping one hand on the wheel knelt to look the boy in the eye. Brock was the first mate and appeared to be a close confidant to Clavell. Mackaroy had been the helmsman before being lost overboard in the storm.

"Come now Tom me lad. Take a deep breath. Surely you can tell old Jack what's troubling you." He continued to keep hold the boy's gaze and soon enough he took a big gulp of air and started.

"You know how yesterday during the storm you told me to keep safe and out the way?" Jack nodded. The boy was young and too gangly yet to be of much help in a storm like that one had been. Likely he would have just gotten in the way of everyone else. "Well…I didn't." "I was trying to tighten some of the lines 'cause they were loose but I wasn't strong enough and they were slippery. I saw Hughes and Mackeroy doing the same further down and I was going to go and ask them for help."

The lad was blushed sheepishly and hurried on quickly but he couldn't hide the quaver in his voice. "But…but Brock got there f…first. I didn't want to bother him 'cause he scares me a little. He was j…just helping them but th…then he leaned over and he…he pushed them b…both over the s…side."

He stopped abruptly as if his throat had suddenly constricted and Jack could see the moonlight glancing off the tears that were creeping down his face. Jack had comforted the boy and assured him that he believed the story. He had then sent the boy back to his hammock, telling him that he would have to think on the subject.

Well it was almost noon the next day and Jack was still thinking on it. And he still had no notion on what to do.

Oh, he did believe the lad. But he couldn't quite figure out what Clavell was up to. No doubt Brock had acted under his captain's orders and why those orders had been given was clear enough – further questioning this morning with Tom had revealed that both Hughes, Mackaroy and the other man lost to the sea had been sailors nearly their whole lives and had been the ones to give the rest a rudimentary knowledge of the basics of sailing.

Jack had been suspicious when Clavell had blithely informed Jack that he was the only "ship person" aboard. After all, the Jolly could not sail without anyone who knew how to operate her aboard. Now it turned out the man had been telling the truth, albeit not the _whole_ truth.

"Daniels. 'Ow long 'till we reach Tortuga?"

Jack turned calmly toward Brock and leaned back casually against the wheel. "Oh, I'd say we'll get there sometime later this evening." As he spoke he surreptitiously scanned the older man's eyes for any sign of guilt. He wasn't overly surprised to find none. These were men who wouldn't pause to kill all of the hostages below decks if there were no profit in keeping them alive. These were men who committed murder, rape and numerous other atrocities on almost a daily basis.

Those were the men that Jack had difficulty understanding. Sure, he himself was a pirate. Yes, he had killed people.

But never just for the sake of it. Even on an attack against a merchant ship he fought to disarm or incapacitate, not to kill. The only times he had murdered anyone was either in defense of himself, his crew, his ship or his friends. Even though he had wanted to kill Barbossa for revenge the actual moment he had done the deed it had been only half for that vengeance while the other half had been merely to distract the man's attention from Elizabeth.

Brock cleared his throat, with his eyes narrowed and Jack realized he had been openly regarding the other man. He quickly straightened and lowered his gaze.

Every now and then he found himself slipping back into his own mannerisms. The mannerisms of a captain aboard his own ship where there was no one to whom he had to defer and he could act toward them as he wished. Not those of a second mate and helmsman who was required to show respect towards both the first mate and the captain.

Brock nodded in satisfaction and moved off, leaving Jack to contemplate their upcoming destination. Tortuga. He hoped fervently that the Pearl was there and waiting. That would make it easier but if she wasn't then he would just have to put Plan B into action.

–          –       –       –          –

It had been a week since they had arrived in Tortuga and there had been no sign of any ship that looked like it could possibly be holding Jack and Anamaria was started to doubt that they ever would come here. Maybe they had chosen some other pirate town or had sailed to their own private haven to make berth.

The crew had become restless and it was with reluctance that her and Gibbs had come to the decision to make their way back out to sea. Out of what she knew to likely be a vain hope, she had been resolute in that they stay nearby in case a likely vessel should come along.

And so it was that not an hour after the infamous Black Pearl had departed Tortuga, that in sailed a ship that sported a damaged mizzen mast and had, not one, but two captains aboard.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –  – – – –

Thankies to everyone for reading. Please review and let me know what's good/bad/needs improvement and inform me if I have any spelling or grammatical errors so I correct them – I can't stand having mistakes. Anyone who reviews will be held in high esteem for perpetuity.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Opranoodlemantra: Lol, yes I'm afraid it may have something to do with a dirty mind. I assure you it was not meant to be taken that way. Thanks for reviewing.

Quiet Infinity: Thank you for your nice remarks. I do try to keep the transitions from topic to topic though it isn't always easy. I've tried to make it longer and I will continue to try. Was this better?

Koonelli: Awww, thank you. I'm totally flattered.

Crazydominodragongirl: I don't mean that he loses his senses. He _did_ seem sober on the island. I just mean that he stays sober right up until the point he loses consciousness – but he _does_ lose consciousness. And they can't really storm the pub because the idea is that it's in Tortuga and whether or not the pirates are all drunk, the ones still able would fight for their lives…and they only have one ship. All good points anyway, I probably just didn't make it clear enough. Thanks for making them.

Capt'n Raven: Thank you for reviewing.

Peachfreak: There you go, I updated ok?!

Alaawya: Thanks for letting me know about that letter. I've corrected it now.

MiRoRmInX: No one else has mentioned order of words so maybe that's just you eh Bailes?

Beregond'sGirl: Thanks for letting me know about the grammar mistakes, I'm correcting them.

Savvyness: Yes he is a bit of a pratt isn't he?

Love y'all

**FalconWing.**


	10. Of Tortuga and Idols

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter X: Of Tortuga and Idols**

By FalconWing

Jack made very sure to keep his hair tied back and a lowered hat obscuring much of his face before they went ashore. The less he looked like Captain Jack Sparrow, the better – the last he wanted was one of his old lady friends to recognize him and reveal his true identity at this point.

There had been no black sails docked in the bay and he deemed it unlikely they would use a hidden cove in this instance. It looked like he would have to get out of this mess himself.

So it was that he found his way navigating the convoluted streets of Tortuga trailed by Clavell, Brock and a group of around twenty handpicked men. A small watch had been set back on board the Jolly and the remainder of the crew had been released on shore leave. No doubt they had settled in perfectly and were currently immersing themselves in the wonders of alcohol and pleasurable company.

He strode through the narrow roads and allowed his mind to wander, trusting it to his feet to remember the road. It was, after all, one they had taken many times before.

He had come to a conclusion regarding Clavell while directing the men to lower anchor in the main bay of the island that was Tortuga. The man must have wanted an excuse to raise Jack's status for him to be willing to sacrifice three prime sailors. That meant that he was likely right where Clavell wanted him. He was probably playing right into the man's greedy hands. Jack didn't like that. He didn't like playing by other people's rules; he was someone who liked to play his own completely different game.

The sound of footsteps broke into his reverie and he looked back as Clavell caught up to him. "Daniels, are ye sure we're goin' th' righ' way? In case ye didn' realize we appear t' headin' into th' back of beyond."

Looking around, Jack noticed that Clavell was right. The hustle-bustle of the unruly Tortugan streets had faded into the background and the well-worn, busy roads had given way to as much of a wilderness as this wretched island could sustain as they had traveled further afield. This fact did not worry him though. They were heading the right way and he said as much.

The captain didn't reply but settled for sending him a dubious glance. Jack affected not to be aware of the fact that he was under scrutiny and continued down the trail that only he knew was there. Clavell elected to keep pace with him and tramped along through the dried remnants of undergrowth.

The only noises were those of their passage and the conversations taking place behind them in hushed tones. Every now and then the sound of flesh contacting flesh carried up to them – even in the early morning the bugs were out in full force and intent on making their presence known.

Time passed and tempers deteriorated as they trekked through the scrub without seeming to get anywhere. In fact, that wasn't far from the truth. A month earlier – was it only a month? – Anamaria had shown him how to make a concoction that she had guaranteed to repel any little critters aiming to make him their meal and he was now taking full advantage of the opportunities it gave him by leading them all in what could only be described as the _very_ long way to their goal.

It was a petty revenge, he knew, but it was all he could do at the moment. Ashore the night before, Jack had managed to scrounge up some of the herbs and safe behind the layer of pulp juice smothered over any and all exposed flesh, he just hadn't able to resist.

And that's why it wasn't until some ridiculous time had gone by that they finally found their way into a small clearing near the northern coast. In the centre sat an unusually large log cabin and at a closer look the surrounding environment all showed signs of human habitation.

Jack signaled for everyone to stop and turned to speak to Clavell. "The man's a bit flighty with strangers so best if I go in first and have a wee talk before introducing to him to all these blokes."

His gaze was somber but he noticed Clavell's eyes following the extravagant gestures of his hands and stilled them immediately, a litany of curses in several languages immediately springing to mind. It was only yesterday he had been determined to not have any more of his old mannerisms creep up on him and yet as time went by, it seemed that they were sneaking past his guard more frequently. It seemed old habits died harder than he had thought.

But the other man only nodded assent and Jack made his way up to the cabin making sure to keep his walk balanced and steady as he felt Clavell's piercing gaze on his back.

The windows were shuttered so he picked his way across various objects between him and his objective; namely, the door. Several bumps and bruises later he was rapping sharply on it and throwing tense glances back at the gang waiting at the edge of the clearing under the overhanging branches.

When there was no answer he balled his hand into a fist and resorted to thumping the wooden surface. As he gathered his weight to throw another strike, the door swiftly swung open and he was left struggling to regain his equilibrium as his forward momentum threw him off. Stability regained he resettled his hat on his head and looked up to the familiar yet unsettling sight of a pistol aimed between his eyes. And when unsettled there was only one thing to do.

Jack grinned widely and allowed his hands to wave flamboyantly as he spoke. This was a man he could trust – had to trust, really – with his true identity. And what was a small matter like an assumed alias between old friends anyway?

"Joe, my man. It's good to see you too, but I'm sure I would feel much more welcomed if ye lowered that gun of yours and invited me in for a drink. I'm here on urgent business and before my mates out there feel the need to come and have a look-see at things they shouldn't there are some very important facts you need to be made aware of."

But instead of steeping aside to let him pass, Joe took a step forward to peer under the brim of the hat. His mouth dropped open as he recognized just who it was that stood on his doorstep. "Jack Sparrow! Well I'll be damned!" Jack only took a deep breath to ease his irritation. It had been amusing to begin with, but by now he was, quite frankly, tired of having people's jaws threaten to fall off their hinges just at the sight of him. He was fairly sure that the braided beard – or lack of it – made _that_ much difference to his overall appearance.

Joe had continued talking, oblivious to his audience's preoccupation and Jack had tuned much of it out, but a name caught his attention.

"…the Black Pearl and Anamaria and Gibbs came straight here o'course. They was asking about you too. Said something about you going and getting yourself in more trouble. 'Course I hadn't seen you and I said as much. 'I haven't seen him since last month when you all came here' says I. Only a few days ago was this. But here you are so they musta found you aye? That's a story I'd like to h-"

"Joe, that's just it. The Pearl didn't find me. I'm on a ship called the Jolly Roger-" Here he ignored Joe's amused snort "-and we were hit by that storm a few days ago. We need supplies to repair the mizzen mast and the rudder. I'm going by the name of Jack Daniels. You know me from when I served as a crewman on the Pearl some two months ago, savvy? Now there's a group of them out there and they're waiting for us to come out. You're a bit nervous of people you don't know."

Joe was looking a bit overwhelmed but he followed Jack out the door fast enough. Clavell alone appeared unfazed at their sudden arrival. It seemed the rest had been too busy scratching and slapping themselves to notice their approach.

Jack cleared his throat and everyone swiveled to regard him inquiringly. "This here is Joe. He will be supplying us with the material to repair both the mizzen mast. I believe the amount and price can be settled between him and the captain."

His advice was adhered to and the remainder of the day was spent traipsing back and forth between cabin and ship arms piled with timber. If anyone noticed that it took remarkably less time in these instances to get to and from that the first trip there, they didn't comment for which Jack was extremely grateful. The last thing he needed was to gain the suspicion and animosity of the crew.

Tortuga's busiest times were night – obviously – and early morning – surprisingly – so when the last of the wood was delivered just before dusk, they was a mutual feeling of relief among the men. No revelry had been missed out on, though they were fast enough to vanish off into the quickly filling streets.

Jack however was not among them.

He had been recruited for guard duty and was even now sitting up in the crows nest looking out over the town. He didn't mind. He was really quite thankful for the excuse not to go out and get drunk, though a pint of rum certainly wouldn't go amiss. All it would take was for one person to recognize him and his ruse would be blown. And if that happened he had no idea what would become of him.

Actually, on second thought he was fairly certain that he did and it did not bode well for him. Many people, not just the navy, would give their arm and leg for the right to say that they killed the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

The sound of someone scuttling up the mast was enough to alert Jack to the fact that he had company. He turned to see Tom scramble in beside him. He briefly wondered where the boy had spent the day but decided that inquiring about that was just asking for a disconcerting answer.

"Jack?"

"Aye, lad?"

"Tell me a story about Captain Sparrow and the Black Pearl."

–          –       –       –          –

Tom couldn't decide who to idolize more: Captain Jack Sparrow of whom he heard so much about, or the man sitting beside him, weaving a tale about kidnapped governors' daughters, blacksmiths who were the sons of buccaneers, cursed treasure and undead pirates.

He knew that his answer should be, without hesitation, Captain Sparrow. But as he watched Jack Daniels wave his arms about as he talked, a faraway look in his eyes, he became torn.

Jack was an ordinary crewman but even Tom could see the extraordinary quality he possessed that just drew people to him. It was a very strange thing, but when his friend spoke about the exploits of Captain Sparrow, Tom could imagine him standing in Sparrow's place dressed in the garb he had described and standing at the helm of the beautiful coal-black ship Tom saw when Jack spoke about her.

–  – – – – – – – – – – – – –  – – – –  –  –

Wow, now was that long for me or what? Feel proud. And stuff actually happened! There was a quiz posted on TheBlackPearlSails and apparently I am a narrative writer: "You're a narrative writer. You love reading and writing long, descriptive passages and read like poetry, and are full of imagery. Just be careful not to overdo it. Not everyone wants to know the exact shade of green on the hills." Lol, sound familiar? With some changes that still fit, I was an angst writer but I won't go into all the details for that one. If you want to see what type of writer you are, go to class=MsoNormal 'text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph'>Now don't be so busy finding that out, that you forget to review. I want to know what's good, bad or needs improvement and would like to be informed of any spelling, grammatical or punctual errors in the story. Reviewers will be forever venerated.

I would also like to know if there is anyone who has the 1am database update actually happening at 1am. For me it's at 8pm so that means I'm nineteen hours ahead of wherever this site originates from. I'm just interested is all.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Oneiriad: Man you reviewed fast. I had only just updated and next thing I was receiving a review alert. Thank you for being so speedy.

Alaawya: Yup, congealed slop. Sounds just the little appetizer, don't it?

Ebony: Jack's really hard to write. I reckon he's acting almost too normal. What do you think?

Anita Lawn: Oh well, I forgive you. So long as your computer is better now.

OpraNoodlemantra: They aren't meeting up with the Pearl though. The Pearl left just before the Jolly arrived. I think you missed out the last little bit on the last chapter or I'm just misinterpreting you. Brock is a dick, eh?

Crazydominodragongirl: Lol. Do you really like rum or are you just saying that? I must admit I now have a fondness for rum in my heart (wow that sounded cheesy!) but not in my taste buds. And we certainly wouldn't want to make Clavell immortal would we?

Peachfreak: Why do you think Norrington is a jerk? And it was Aaron and I did think it fit but seeing as he mentioned that for a reason, I'm sure he won't mind, eh? And as for 'where do I get the time?' I have no idea. I just sit down and write.

Savvyness: I agree with your assessment of Norrington's prospects, the poor bloke.

Beregond'sGirl: I think it is just your dirty mind with the guy/girl thing. She's a bit of a nutty gal so I don't think anything will be happening in that department. And I do try to make my reviewer responses vary a bit. Sometimes it feels like I'm writing the same thing over and over. "thank you for reviewing" "thank you for reviewing" "thank you for reviewing" etc. And have you figured out what's going to happen or is the detective cap and bubble pipe going to waste?

Thank you everyone for reviewing! And of course those that read but didn't review (just not as much. Lol).

Love y'all

**FalconWing.**


	11. Of Epiphanies and Departures

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter XI: Of Epiphanies and Departures**

By FalconWing

Contrary to popular belief, Jack was not a heavy drinker. As with singing there were times one indulged and times when it was simply inappropriate. Once again, 'when marooned' was featured in the 'appropriate timing' listing.

Yes, oftentimes he certainly appeared somewhat intoxicated, what with his odd walk and flamboyant gestures, but if that led others to believing he had taken leave of his senses, then so much the better. And on the rare occasions he did become a tad inebriated – just a tad, mind – he had a tendency to become more introspective rather than extreme and wild.

Indeed, he could count on one hand – okay then, maybe two – the number of times he had drunk himself into a stupor. Even then he never appeared any drunker than was natural for him and was perfectly capable of holding a civilized conversation right up to the point where he dropped to the ground, unconscious. Needless to say, the incident on the island with Elizabeth and the rum had put him on his guard against the vulnerability that being in a drunken daze left you in.

So he wasn't quite sure why he was sitting in the Jolly Mary, downing his fourth mug of rum, in between assailing fellow crew members with the conclusion of his account of the sacking of Nassau Port.

"And ye did all o' this withou' even firin' a single shot?"

This disbelieving remark came from his left and Jack turned to regard the owner of the voice, blatantly invading the other man's personal space as he leaned forwards. His arms flounced about as though in an attempt to reconstruct the scene in front of himself. "Precis'ly, mate. Ye see, all we really 'ad to do was find the Gov'nor and put a gun to 'is 'ead. He was practic'ly beggin' to show us to all the goods he 'ad stored away…"

His words became more and more slurred and he let his voice peter out as he reclined backwards again and took another gulp of rum. He glanced around and noticed that more of the Jolly's crew had joined them to listen to his tale. In fact, now that he thought about, he observed something strange.

Aside from the captain and first mate, the whole crew was in this one pub. He briefly wondered why – the chances of it being a coincidence had to be so completely outrageous that it was all but impossible.

He scanned the room, and locating the man he was after, raised his voice to be heard over the general chaos of the tavern. "Hey Dan, come over 'ere fer a sec will ye?" Big Dan looked around for the source of the call and spotted Jack waiting patiently. He headed over and Jack couldn't help but notice the way even the drunkest of louts moved aside to allow the unusually large man in their midst to pass through unobstructed.

Big Dan had finally been relieved tonight of his guarding of Elizabeth, or to be more accurate, of the door to her allocated room. Jack didn't know the man who had taken Dan's place but Jack hoped he had a least a small decent streak in him. Elizabeth may be capable of taking care of herself in many situations – and likely this one too – but Jack did not want any hitches.

"Aye Jack?" he inquired, at reaching Jack's side. While at sea he was required to call him sir, but on shore Jack had no problem in being identified by his given name by the crew.

He paused to think for a moment. It wasn't that his mind was muddled by the drink – that wasn't it at all. It may have begun to inhibit his speech but his brain was working just as fast as always. No, it was more the fact that while he liked Dan enough, the man had been one of Clavell's henchmen long before Hack had come onto the scene and he didn't want to draw undue attention to himself by asking the wrong question at the wrong time. But then on the other hand, nothing risked, nothing gained.

"Say, do you 'ave any idea why all of use are 'ere in the exact same tavern? Surely there's somewhere else fer ev'ryone else to go. And while I'm on a wee tangent o' questioning, where did Clavell an' Brock vanish off to?"

Big Dan didn't appear particularly ruffled by this line of questioning and Jack relaxed slightly. Instead the man replied rather gruffly, "Captain's orders. Drinkin' allowed in the Jolly Mary only. No exceptions. No one knows why 'cept maybe Brock." But he didn't elaborate or answer Jack's last query until Jack gave a not-so-subtle expectant clearing of his throat. Even then the man fidgeted before relenting and supplying a satisfactory reply.

"Don't know really. Disappeared upstairs a while ago and 'aven't been seen since. Jus' said they 'ad 'important business' t' discuss and it's imperative not to bother them."

That said, when it came down to it, it wasn't really what Jack would consider a satisfactory reply. Instead he felt like throwing down his bottle of rum and storming out the tavern like a petulant child. And it was a mark of just how frustrated he felt that he would even consider throwing down his rum – heavy drinker he may not be, but he never was one to waste even a single drop of the drink.

_Important business to discuss? Imperative not to bother them?_ That must have been a direct quote as he was pretty sure that 'imperative' was not a resident in Big Dan's vocabulary. And important business? That sounded like something he wanted to know.

His mind sharpened so it was as though the four mugs of rum have never been. He stood up abruptly, the chair crashing to the ground behind him. He tilted his head in Dan's direction. "Thanks mate." The drunken slur was gone and while his voice returned to a speech pattern that was normal for him, it was a well acknowledge fact for all those who knew him – either of him – that his way of talking would never be considered _normal_.

Big Dan returned to whatever it was he had been previously occupied with but Jack stayed. He turned to the men in his proximity and proclaimed in a loud voice: "Well mates, it's been good drinking with ye but now I think it's time for me to find myself some better evening entertainment than you lot."

With that, he took one last gulp, draining the mug and planted it firmly on the bench. The he turned and swayed off into the crowds, to all intents and purposes in the attempt to find some pleasurable company.

In reality, he was busy skirting the people he knew while trying to make his way unobtrusively to the staircase. The best way to do this was to blend in and he did this with little difficulty. For all he spent most of his time standing out, the ability to make yourself inconspicuous was a necessary one for someone in his line of work; at least when it came to going ashore at a respectable town.

When he finally reached the foot of the stairs, he glanced around once to make sure he had no observers and started up them. They were constricted and steep but he made it up them, the only difficulty being when a bloody great parrot-like bird flew squawking around the bend about halfway up and nearly frightened the life out of him.

At the top was a narrow corridor with doors on either side. Jack made his way along them, pressing his ear up to each door in turn to listen for the sound of voices within. All were silent and he had nearly given up and turned to leave when he spotted a notice pasted to the far wall. Curious, he walked slowly over and studied it. It was printed in nice, tidy handwriting and it was clear that this person knew their letters and was the possessor of an extensive vocabulary. Or at least one that was considerably larger than one would expect to find in a pirate town.

It contained a relatively simple message. If anyone needed a scribe to write out notes of any kind (and no doubt that was hinting that ransom notes would be included in that) then there was a master willing to do it for a price to be negotiated. The delivery of the letter could be included in the deal if necessary.

He pondered the changed circumstances as he returned downstairs. This certainly added a new facet, one that he hadn't counted on and it would surely cause a hitch to his plans. But they would still be successful.

He was just left to wonder if Clavell had already sent the ransom note – for that was surely what he was here for – or if that's why he had come here now.

 –         –       –       –          –

Clavell re-entered the Jolly Mary, Brock at his side, through the back stairs he had exited it with, fairly steaming with frustration.

He had not received a reply to his note. The scribe assured him that it _had_ been delivered, but had been 'unable to disclose further information.' How the bird had even known where to go was just as much of a mystery to Clavell as that Daniels character.

The man was simply a black sheep, a bad egg (and he blamed Daniels for the fact that these were the first descriptions to spring to mind as often at night when he thought he was alone, he had taken to singing some blasted song that invariably got stuck in Clavell's head). And whatever else he was was completely overrun by the fact that he was just plain odd.

But he didn't want to go down that path. Musing on Daniels only ever lost him time and left him feeling even more stumped over the man, his actions and his motives. Even promoting him to a position (or in this case two positions) that entailing more interaction with the captain, Clavell had not been able to find out more about him.

But there he was losing control of his ruminations again. He put all thoughts of Jack Daniels out of his head and instead thought about the conundrum he found himself in. He had countless hostages, all off high standing and yet he had not received a reply to his ransom message. He didn't want to stay in Tortuga for much longer as the crew wanted to put their hands on some gold, something they were admittedly short of at the moment.

The only thing he could think of to do was to go back to sea and spend some time looting other ships. He would have to get Daniels to help them with tactics but he felt that with the months they had spent at sea, the men should be capable of taking a merchantman. They could stay nearby and check back in few weeks to see if a reply had arrived by then.

Decision made, he walked the rest of the way down the stairs and into the tavern. Drawing his sword he thumped one of the benches three times with the pommel to gain his crews' attention. When all eyes were on him he raised his head and made his announcement loudly and clearly. "Gentlemen." There were a few snorts at this but he continued unfazed. "We'll be leavin' port tomorra with th' dawn tide. Our ransom reply hasn' yet arriv'd and until it does we will have a bit o' fun wi' some merchantman!"

The crew cheered and toasted to the plunder they would get but Clavell couldn't help but notice Daniels sitting with perfect composure eyeing him with a speculative look on his face that Clavell didn't like.

He would have to watch that man.

–  – – – – – – – – – – – – –  – – – –  –  –

Thank you all for reading again. It's actually another long chapter. Wow, two long ones in a row. Next thing you know the pigs in the pen will grow wings and fly away, eh? Anyway, don't forget to let me know what was good, bad, needed improvement, etc and to notify me of any grammatical, punctual or spelling errors so I can correct them. Reviewers will be held in perpetual adoration.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Riddle-Me-That: Oh yay, a new reader. Or have you just not reviewed before? Thank you for your review and it wasn't lame – it was a review and that's all that need be said to make it good.

Oneiriad: Thank you for all your reviews throughout. They are enormously appreciated.

Inu Lover: Thank you for reading and reviewing and an extra thank you for going through and reviewing more than just the last one!

Crazydominodragongirl: There will be more with the Pearl's crew, probably chapter after next in fact. We do a lot on alcohol at school too and he's in my head the whole time. And I just have to ask before I die of curiosity, what on Earth made you think of your name?

OpraNoodlemantra: Thank you for reviewing and don't worry, a lot of people took awhile to click with the Jack Daniels thing. And how did you think of your name?

Gabwr: Thank you for reviewing my story.

Alaawya: Well it would crack _you_ up wouldn't it Rach? Lol.

Quiet Infinity: I think I'll use your suggestion for the text 'cause it does sound better. And I've always thought that my Jack might be turning a wee bit too normal as the story progresses, which is why I'm trying to bring him back out more. What do you think?

Savvyness: Thank you for your review and your nice comments. They are much esteemed.

Peachfreak: Congrats for being the one hundredth reviewer of Before The Dawn. But don't stop reviewing now.

Pirate Shy: I forgive you for coming to it late, so long as you keep reviewing. Lol. And thanks for the nitpicks. I'll have to go back and have a look at them.

Shei1dmaidenofrohan: Hey, I don't mind nitpickyness. Any corrections are good because I don't like having a story riddled with mistakes. And thank you for going back and reviewing seven of the ten chapters. It is really great when you do that because then – apart from getting more reviews – you get what people thought at the actual time. Thank you for reviewing.

Beregond'sGirl: I know that you didn't review this chapter – and I did miss your review pouts – but I just wanted to thank you for recommending me to shei1dmaidenofrohan.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.******


	12. Of Wind and Cards

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter XII: Of Wind and Cards**

By FalconWing

Captain Gillette sat in the main cabin of the Dauntless with Governor Swann hovering fretfully at his elbow. While Weatherby made no attempt to hide his anxiety, Gillette was making every effort to keep his own under wraps. It could do no good for morale of the men under his temporary command to see him unsure and uneasy. Especially when aforementioned morale was already at a low.

They were currently floating about fifty miles off the coast of Cuba and he didn't like it. It was bad enough that they were no longer in British territory but to be dead in the water…that was a hundred times – hell, a thousand times – worse.

He was worried, the Governor was worried, the crew's spirits were about as lifted as a pirate waiting to be hanged _and_ they were still no closer to finding the villains that had kidnapped half of their port's nobility. If there was any way that things could possibly get any worse then Gillette would swallow his pride and do a jig on the foredeck. That said, at least they were alive, though by the speed by which their rations were disappearing, that wouldn't be much longer.

"There must be something we can do. All the while we sit here doing nothing, my daughter and countless others are being held captive and without doubt being maltreated too."

Gillette almost sighed at the Governor's words. True, the man was agitated at the moment – one could almost go so far as to say he was emotionally unstable – but if he had to explain to him one more time that for the time being they were stuck, he was fairly sure he would throttle the closest available object. And he really didn't want a first-hand experience of what happened to Captains who assaulted a resident Governor.

"I'm afraid there isn't, Governor. Without the wind, all we can do is sit and pray. I would recommend target practice, but we don't have enough shot to carry that sort of task out. The Dauntless has no sweeps and, even if she did, we have not the crew to man the number that would be needed to move such a ship as this. She is far too large."

He paid the man no more heed as he returned to poring over the map before him. They had been bound for Tortuga bay, though they were not so foolhardy as to attempt to dock. The pirates who swarmed over the place would not take kindly to Navy men. That was likely the general direction to which the hostage takers had headed. After all, where else but a pirate haven could a pirate crew not expect to be welcomed with handcuffs, a cell for the night and a noose in the morning?

From the moment they had weighed anchor, the wind had not been particularly favorable. It had been about six hours into their voyage that the wind had without warning dropped altogether, leaving their sails drooping suddenly with no wind to fill them.

That had been almost five days ago now and there had been not a breath of wind since. The journey to Tortuga should have taken, under normal circumstances, a little over a day.

A slight movement beside him made him look to his left. Weatherby was looking absently towards the far wall, at a painting of a fully-rigged ship under full sail, though it was by all means uncertain that he even saw it. "Oh, Governor Swann. I was unaware that you were still here," Weatherby startled and turned so he continued. "Are you sure you would not rather make yourself comfortable in your quarters? I do have some work to complete."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, as though he were trying to work out if he was being impertinent. But Gillette had been careful with his phrasing. He could afford to be insolent to many a person, but Governor Swann was not one of them.

Finding nothing incriminating in neither words nor tone, the Governor relaxed, though only minutely. Gillette knew that the man did not like him. Not many people did. People often found him smug and overbearing and general avoided him. He didn't mind though. Those who did circumvent his company were generally people whose company he wouldn't tolerate anyway.

"I have spent the last few days in my rooms, but if indeed you do have work to do then I shall-"

A small jerk of the floor beneath their feet and a simultaneous slamming of the doors made both men to look up startled as a sailor burst into the room. Gillette couldn't believe it! The audacity of the man!

But without giving Gillette a chance to deliver a sharp reprimand, the man broke into an excited announcement, interspersed only by short sharp breaths to regain oxygen for his deprived lungs. "Sir, it's the wind. It looks like its starting to pick up again. The sails are beginning to fill and it looks as though we may be on the move at any moment."

–          –       –       –          –

The alcohol was flowing freely the night on the Jolly Roger the night after their first raid.

In truth it was their third raid but no one liked to dwell on their mishaps, least of all a pirate crew. The first two attacks on merchantmen had not gone smoothly.

The first time, they had not even managed to board. After a few exchanges of cannon fire, the other ship had turned and fled and the crew of the Jolly had been slow to react, allowing their prey to flee to safety. The second time was one that had never been mentioned since. They had beaten the other ship and even managed to board. But the other crew had charged out surprisingly strong and despite Jack's efforts to reorganize, the fight had turned messy. After losing four crewmen, the order to fall back to the Jolly had ended the clash and they had made a hasty retreat back over the horizon.

Today however, everything had gone smoothly. Jack's extra practice sessions had improved both their aim with the cannons and their hand to hand combat aboard ship. The wind had been on their side and they had made use of the maneuverability. Boarding had been a breeze and the new way of working with each other soon paid out as they fought the other sailors into submission.

They had been transporting a wide variety of riches to Port-au-Prince, including gold, jewels and much to everyone's delight, rum. Though none of their crew could speak English, they understood what it meant when pirates held a sword to their neck.

And so Jack sat with his feet propped on the table, taking liberal gulps out of the large mug he held in his hand. He glanced at his own cards occupying his other hand and then returned to regarding his opposition. The round had been going well and so far Jack was winning, though Big Dan was close behind. Now, with the folding of all the other contenders, it was just Jack and Dan remaining yet again.

The other man's expression was unreadable as he leaned forward and pushed more coins into the middle of the table. "I'll up it by twenty gold pieces."

The men sitting around the table drew in a collective breath – that made it thirty pieces – but Jack only let a small smile grace his lips. By God, but the man showed no emotion whatsoever. He could be bluffing for all Jack knew (a large bluff that's for sure, but he'd seen men do bigger).

He leaned forward and pushed more of his own coins to the centre of the table before settling back again. "There's your thirty and I'd like to see you." The tension mounted and Dan leant forward placing his cards face up on the bench. All faces swiveled to see Jack's reaction to the full house of Queens and Kings that stared solemnly at the ceiling.

Jack emptied his mug with a swig and put it on the floor next to his chair. Then he swung his legs down and sat forward, placing his cards on the table with a victorious grin. Four aces and a ten secured the round.

There were whoops and shouts as he emerged the winner. In the past week alone, he had gained a lot more respect from the rest of the crew, though he still didn't like or trust any of them further than he could throw them – they had been perfectly capable of kidnapping a dozen people and killing another.

Crewmembers approached him and awarded him with a clap on the back before drifting away, entertainment over. Dan got up and shook his hand good naturedly. "Congratulations Jack. Ye're a good player. I'll 'ave to wait 'till next time to give ye a good beatin' aye?"

Jack grinned. "And what makes you think you'll beat me then, aye?" Dan just chuckled and Jack started to separate the pot back into its original portions.

"What are ye doin'?" Big Dan was giving him a puzzled look and Jack frowned.

"Getting it back, ready to give it back to everyone. Its part of the code. No gaming for money with either dice or cards." But Dan continued to cast him a perplexed look so he sighed and stated simply "Just don't worry. In short, you all get your original money back."

There was certainly no argument to this and he proceeded to find the remainder of the players and return their money. All accepted with many a confused expression but without complaint. Once finished, he got himself another pint of rum and sat down to enjoy it.

He couldn't help but notice that Clavell had been watching him the entire time.

–          –       –       –          –

Clavell watched Daniels hand money back to people with a profound sense of mystification and disbelief. He had heard the man say something about the Code to Big Dan but that didn't mean anything to him. Who would give away money?

There was something about Daniels that wasn't right. He couldn't get the feeling out of head that there was something major that he was missing out on. Something obvious and just out reach.

And he couldn't help the feeling that Daniels was not all he said he was.

–  – – – – – – – – – – – – –  – – – –  –  –

I know it's shorter than the last two but please don't kill me – I was in a rush. Instead of inflicting any bodily harm upon me, reviews will do. Your thoughts on anything you liked, didn't like or thought needed improvement or adjustments are welcomed with open arms. Any reviewers will be loved _ad infinitum_.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Heldin: Thank you for reviewing and it's good to know that my only readers aren't only those who review. And I think he's too smart for that too. I don't see Jack as someone who drinks all the time. Rather I believe he only drank that much on the island because, let's face it he thought he was going to die.

Shei1dmaidenofrohan: Thanks for reviewing and pointing out that typo. If fixed it now.

OpraNoodlemantra: Lol! It is the funniest name ever! You must be a really big Johnny fan to look for the name of one of his cameo characters in the credits. Thanks for being a loyal reviewer.

Beregond'sGirl: (Feeling warm and fuzzy?) Lol. Thanks for going back and reviewing chapter 10 as well. Much appreciated. I'm afraid I don't have the recipe – it'll be on the net somewhere 'cause there are all sorts of plants you can use aren't there? About the beta reading…that would be great though I usually don't finish the chapter until generally a few hours before I have to post it for it to be updated on the database so I don't know how that would work. What do you think?

The Phantom: I'm glad that you like the way I take my time. I was worried people may think it was going too slow and nothing's happening. I've changed the niggles you found so thanks for those and of course all your wonderful comments – you really know how to make a girl feel appreciated.

Crazydominodragongirl: Let's just say that while Clavell isn't a blind idiot, he's not very smart or onto it either, k? And it was certainly an enlightening experience reading how you got your name and I'm sure it's one no one else would ever dream of using with numbers on the end as the reasons you chose it likely wouldn't be significant to them; different value sets and all that. Well done for your originality in thinking up a name.

Savvyness: You'll just have to wait and see. And thanks for the review.

Missa5: Ooh yay, a new reader. Have you been reading it long or just started? Thanks for reviewing.

BM Originally: They will play a main part though maybe not a huge as Jack's. Thank you for your nice remarks. Very much cherished.

Peachfreak: Oh dear. You laughing like me? Please, no. I think the world can only handle one laugher like me. Lol.

Alaawya: you should know what it means. Lol. Thanks for reviewing.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.**


	13. Of Hearsay and Garnering Information

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter XIII: Of Hearsay and Garnering Information**

By FalconWing

Jack absently smoothed his moustache with his thumb and forefinger as he pondered the situation.

If what Tom had told him was correct then none of the crew, excepting Brock, felt they owed any loyalty whatsoever to Captain Clavell and were only waiting to get their share of the ransom before committing a crime somewhat more sinister than leaving to find a position on another ship. And going by the general atmosphere of the pirates and the vibes he was receiving from Dan and many of the others, it was correct.

The whole mood of the ship had changed suddenly. When he had first come aboard the other pirates had been aggressive and even covertly hostile toward him as a new member of the crew, but had been friendly enough towards one another and had displayed a certain amount of allegiance towards their captain. Now he was picking up the subtle undertones threading the tempers of the entire crew. He could feel the tension thrumming through the very fiber of the ship. He was familiar with the feeling and though this time it didn't bode ill for him, he couldn't help his instinctive misgivings for the situation he knew was brewing.

"Mutiny."

The word tasted foul in his mouth even before he realized he had spoken it aloud. He took a quick glance around, reassuring himself that no one had been within earshot.

He knew what had triggered the sudden change in the crew's mindset. Somehow it had leaked out that Clavell had ordered the timely death of three members of his own crew and rumors and suspicion spread like wildfire of a ship. That would certainly be enough to put any man tense and on edge. That would certainly be enough to make any man capable of talking rebellion.

That thought did nothing to ease Jack's uneasiness with the state of affairs. True, he didn't like Clavell at all and would only rest easier at nights for the man's absence but… he had experienced a mutiny taking place at his expense and had only lived to tell the tale due to a remarkable combination of unbelievable luck, his own genius and outside assistance.

Cavell himself seemed completely unaware of the raw emotion hanging over the ship like the unnatural fog that had at one point surrounded the Pearl. To all intents and purposes he appeared utterly oblivious of the sidelong looks that were cast in his direction every time he ventured on deck.

He was fairly certain that the inexorable revolt would not occur anytime soon, however. They wanted their fraction of the volumes of money they expected to take delivery of, in exchange for the hostages still held in captivity below. Frankly, Jack suspected that this would never happen. He had not missed Clavell's expression when he had returned to the tavern back in Tortuga to inform them of their departure. For one as perceptive as he was, the man might as well of had the words 'vexation' and 'anxiety' painted on his forehead in a bold red dye. Obviously he had expected to find some sort of message or reply waiting for him. Obviously he had expected to, but hadn't.

He knew that by this stage he was guessing a lot, but every order only served to confirm these assumptions. That they were staying near Tortuga hinted at a forthcoming return there – something that made sense if he was indeed waiting for a missive. That the crew had not yet acted implied that they were not willing to turn their backs on money they felt they deserved. Yes, he felt rather secure in his suppositions.

The only uncertainty he had was what to do now. Oh, he had a plan for when they encountered the Pearl, but time was passing quickly and they had seen neither hide nor hair of his ship. He couldn't help but wonder if they had given up on him and moved to more prosperous waters.

But his mind shied away from this pessimistic thinking and latched onto happier thoughts – he had already become far too pensive for his liking.

His crew would come for it. His ship would come for him. He knew it in his bones. They just had to find him.

He just had to be patient and wait for them.

–          –       –       –          –

Anamaria gripped the rope tight and pushed herself forwards, swinging across the chasm that separated the two ships. Her sword was in her hand even before she landed with a thump on the deck, knees bent and legs braced as she chanced a quick scan of the other vessel. Numerous jolts to either side of her heralded the arrival of the rest of the Pearl's crew.

She turned to Ladbroc. "What do ye think? I don't see anyone."

And she didn't. The deck of this merchantman was completely void of any activity, save for that caused by her own men. They at least stood in a defensive stance, warily eyeing any and all objects that could possibly be concealing the enemy. Anamaria didn't like this at all.

The ship creaked and groaned slightly as it bobbed up and down over the waves. Snapping could be heard overhead as the sails fluttered, spilling wind from the pristine white canvas. Lines lay slack; knots left half-down, abandoned prior to completion. Parts of the railing were nonexistent and the woodwork had taken a beating, having fallen victim to the brutal power of the Pearl's guns. And yet there was no sign of the crew that had so valiantly returned fire.

"They could be sittin' somewhere, jus' waitin' fer us t' come so they c'n ambush us. On th' other 'and they could be sittin' somewhere scared out o' their wits jus' hopin' we'll leave. Either way, 'tis up t' ye what we do next."

She nodded in agreement and weighed her options. The other crew had obviously been drilled on this tactic of theirs; no one could empty the deck that fast without practice. Whether that tactic was to lie in wait and waylay the attacking side, catching them by surprise, or no more than an effort to stay out of view and hope that out of sight was out of mind, she didn't know. What she did know was that her own men were in need of a good raid and a stock-up of supplies. Besides that, the ship itself had been looking a bit under the weather even before the Pearl had open fire and Anamaria couldn't help wondering if perhaps she had been in a scrape with another pirate ship – possibly even the ship that Jack was on.

The choice, however, was wrested away from her as, with an uncannily unified war cry, the aforementioned absent crew put in a tardy but remarkable appearance, charging out from below decks with swords drawn and determination in the very depths of their eyes. The Pearl's crew turned as one to meet the onrushing opposition, the rallying call of the sailors not quite drowning out the distinctive clang of metal on metal.

Anamaria parried the swing of a shabby man and took advantage of his hesitation when he recognized her for the woman she was, giving him a hearty clout over the head with the pommel of her sword.

"Aim to disarm or disable. Don't kill unless ye have to. We're here fer supplies and information, not a blood fest."

She lifted her voice to be heard over the clashing sounds of battle. She knew that her instruction wasn't necessary; these crewmembers were pirates for the freedom, the adventure and the exhilaration, and in the countless raids carried out by the Black Pearl never had they killed anyone for the sheer hell of it.

A lively looking fellow was the next to make the mistake of believing her easy prey and she dispatched him easily with a slash to occupy his sword and a swift knee where it counts. His blade clattered to the deck and she moved on. Judging by the way his face was contorting in pain and the fact that he appeared completely absorbed with clutching himself and squeaking softly, it was dubious that he was even aware of the fight ensuing around him. She strongly doubted that he would be up and about soon enough to make a difference to the outcome of this struggle.

For already the sailors were losing ground to the seasoned buccaneers that they were up against. The crew of the Pearl had had the advantage of numbers at the start, but now there were only a few left standing from the other side while as far as Anamaria could count, not one man from the Pearl had fallen – overwhelming odds for any crew let alone one of a merchant craft.

Matelot lowered his sword slightly and approached the remaining group of four sailors, standing back to back, swords raised as though in effort to ward off the advancing pirate.

Matelot opened his mouth to placate them, but one rushed forward, brandishing his weapon, a crazed look in his eyes. It was quick work for the pirate to echo Anamaria's earlier actions and cuff the lad – who was barely into manhood – letting him drop like a rock to the deck. At the sight of their mate lying crumpled at Matelot's feet, the three left behind wasted no time in dropping their arms in surrender.

Anamaria had been observing all this from a distance and she chose now to pick her way across the many unconscious sailors sprawling across the deck. She walked right up to the tallest of the three and looked him square in the eye and ran the edge of her sword lightly across his throat; a little intimidation never did anyone any harm, after all. Seeing the telltale twitch of his eyelids that gave away the restrained flinch, she sheathed her sword and spun on her heel. She strode over to the stairs leading to the quarterdeck and took a seat. Meeting his gaze again, she tilted her head, indicating for him to take a seat next to her and smiled, any trace of a threat vanished as if it had never been.

When he didn't budge she patted the step beside her. "Come on over. It's time for me and ye to have a little chat while my crew collect some badly needed provisions and carry them over to the Pearl." This last part was delivered in a raised tone so that the Pearl's men stopped listening to her and jumped to it, vanishing down into the holds of the ship where all their stored cargo would be.

The man finally came over, though he did so slowly and cautiously before sitting himself down on the step as far away from her as was humanly possible. He looked at the ground and mumbled something indecipherable.

"What was that? Speak up, man."

He glanced up again and while this time he spoke clearer, he was not much louder. Anamaria let it go and concentrated on listening instead. "I said the captains over there by the base of the mast." He nodded his head toward the middle of the ship. "It's him you should be talking to, not me."

She raised a brow. "From the looks of things, ye're captain is a bit out of it at the moment. And it doesn't take a captain to tell me what I want to know – just someone with eyes and ears, both of which ye appear to have." He didn't say anything to this so she continued. "What I need to know is have ye seen any other pirate ships in yer voyage. Now before ye answer I just want to let ye know that the battle damage to your ship earlier did not go unnoticed so there be no point in ye lying. Lying a waste of your time and mine and won't get ye anywhere."

When he looked about ready to refuse to answer she placed a very meaningful hand on the pistol sitting artlessly where it had been shoved into her waistband. His response was exactly what she had wished for. His eyes widened as he caught this silent gesture, he mouth opened and words poured out.

"It was two days ago. A ship was sighted on the horizon but nothing much was thought of it. We had been drilled in what to do in the case of a pirate attack but that seemed unlikely; they were traveling at a fair distance and didn't appear to be acting at all aggressive. Then, all of a sudden, they turned so they were broadside to us and starting firing at us. They raised the Jolly Roger and heading straight towards us.

Every now and then, they would pause in their approach and turn to throw another barrage of cannonballs at us. When they finally came alongside us, they threw over grapples and were boarding before we even managed to load our own cannons. We did what we had practiced and abandoned the decks, coming below and waiting for them to advance closer before going out and attacking. It worked and broke up their attack. One of their men was trying to reorganize them but no one was listening.

They withdrew back to their own ship and fled. It was fast (a two-masted schooner) and we had no time to stop them from getting away."

Here he stopped and stared at her, daring her to challenge what he had said.

She considered his expression before asking the most important question. "Now I'm going to give you a description and ask if saw this man. He's medium height – probably about here." She demonstrated, holding her hand slightly above her own head. "Long dark hair probably tied up, brown eyes, gold teeth, waves his hands around as he talks…"

She let her voice trail off as he started to nod his head vigorously. "Aye, I remember someone that looks like that. He walked funny. As though he was drunk…"

Now it was her turn to nod vigorously. She could have done a dance on the spot – after all their searching, they were finally getting close. "You did? Where was he? Where did you see him?" She sat forward eagerly, perfectly willing to shake the answer out of him if he took much longer to respond. His answer when it did come, however, was the last thing she expected to hear.

"He was the one in charge."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –  – – – –

Thank you for reading. Please review and tell me what you though was good, what was bad and what needed improvement. Reviewers will be held in esteem for rest of their natural lives.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Oneiriad: No, when on a pirate ship that has never even heard of the Code, it isn't is it? Thanks for your review.

Dshael: Aww, thanks for that. It's really nice to know.

Pirate Shy: Thank you so much for going back and reviewing all the chapters. It is appreciated far more than I can ever relate. So are all the tips for making sentences sound better.

LunarianPrincess: Aye, just call it author's license. Lol. Thank you for reviewing.

OpraNoodlemantra: (or should I call you Mrs Depp now, if you're married?) The nineteenth? Noooo! Your reviews will be sorely missed, but feel free to review all the chapters when you get back. Lol.

Ellenar: Oh they'll be getting out of the brig soon enough – as in, in a while. No promises though. Hehe.

Beregond'sGirl: Yes, that could work for the beta-ing. I could update every four days and send it to you on the third or something. Would that work, do you think? And thanks for pointing out the moral(e) mistake so I could change it. Hell, thanks for the whole review!!

Crazydominodragongirl: I left that one for the reader to decide. If you think he cheated then he did cheat. It's all up to what the reader thinks.

Savvyness: Thank you for your review and don't worry, I tend to read other people's reviews.

The Phantom: Thanks for that little tidbit – I'll keep it in mind. And thank you for being specific about what you like. It really helps.

Queen of the Caribbean: And yes, reviewing does count for something – it counts for everything in fact. There will be a bit more from the prisoners side soon, don't worry and I wouldn't dream of throwing objects at any reviewers even if it did take them a while to read the story.

Valk: Here's more of the Pearl, just for you. Thanks for the review.

Heldin: I think I found the whole thing ages ago but recently I've just been getting examples of ship's articles.

Eledhwen: Oooo, you'll have to wait and see, won't you? And thanks for reviewing here. While it's really cool to get them at Black Pearl Sails, here they show up on stats and they are easier to access at a later date.

MiRoRmInX: Thanks for your review. And his name is Weatherby. Is says on official PotC websites.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.**


	14. Of Sightings and Stealth

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter XIV: Of Sightings and Stealth**

By FalconWing

Anamaria still didn't know what to think. Jack was in charge of their adversaries; the very people that had kidnapped him in the first place.

She was currently seated in Jack's cabin. She was meant to be getting some sleep before taking the helm again and she knew she need the rest, but at any time, the ship that the sailor had described could appear on the horizon and she did not want to be fast asleep when it did.

The sailor – Donaldson he had said his name was – had told her that his overall impression was that he had not been captaining the men or any such thing, only leading the men in the fight. The order to withdraw had been passed along from the ship where, had assumed, the man who _was_ in charge was located.

She could only assume that Jack had concocted one of his outrageous schemes and was in the midst of carrying it out. The one thing she knew for certain was that the end result for his plan was that he would be back on the Pearl, captaining her once more. There was no way in hell that Jack would even contemplate leaving the Pearl – it didn't take a King's advisor to notice that his ship and the freedom she represented held a bigger spot in his 'black' pirate heart than anything or anyone else in the world.

She also held the slight suspicion that he was counting on an interception by the Pearl to put this scheme of his into action – while he was a genius when it came to thinking up these brilliant plans, she couldn't name one occasion when he had carried it off all by himself. It was up to her to get there and get there fast. And before he slipped and gave himself away. After all, Jack Sparrow was not well known for being sedate and reticent.

Even now, glancing around his cabin, she could many of the items he had been most proud of pilfering.

A small round mirror framed with a plain gold border but stolen from some lord or another, a silver vase, nothing out of the ordinary, but looted from the strong house of the richest man in the Caribbean, a commonplace pistol pinched from the very holster of none other than Commodore Norrington during the little curse escapade. In fact none of the bits and pieces were ornamented and bejeweled, but rather small, unimportant things with a great history behind them. Somewhere, she knew, there was even a cutlery set intercepted on its way to the King himself.

"Sail ho!"

The loud cry from the lookout brought her leaping to her feet and out the door as though the devil himself were on her tail. She took the stairs to the quarterdeck two at a time and snatched the telescope from Gibbs, ignoring the peeved look he threw her way. Setting it to face in the direction to which Gibbs had been looking, she scrutinized the surrounding waters until coming to rest of the distant silhouette two points off the port bow.

The ship, which was heading on a course near perpendicular to their own, was a small light ship with two masts and it looked to be a schooner. Anamaria felt herself re-energizing despite her lack of sleep; this ship matched all the descriptions Donaldson had given them, fitting the bill perfectly, right down to the way the luffed slightly in the wind, as though the sailors aboard were not quite as off the mark as they should be. Flying from the main mast was a plain black flag, a sure indication of a less-than innocent intent.

Snapping shut the telescope, she turned to Gibbs, not bothering to hide her grin. She opened her mouth to speak, but seeing Marty and Cotton approaching, she directed her comments to them all. "Well boys, it looks like we've found Jack."

Both matched her grin, but she didn't miss the way Marty's hand went straight to his sword.

"Now, from what we've heard, Jack has been working with them so we won't go rushing in and cut them all down. What we want is to sail in guns bristling, showing them our full range of weaponry. But we won't fire. Instead what are going to do is to raise the truce flag. Go and have a bit of a chat with them first, see if we can sort it all out, but give them no allusions as to our superiority."

Marty's frown gradually vanished from his face, to be replaced by a grin and Cotton was nodding along, the parrot on his shoulder quiet for once. Both faces showed a strong determination; nothing would discourage them from this operation, something Anamaria was very pleased to see.

"Right then." She brought them back to the present and they looked to her expectantly. "Ye two can go and get the flags now. They're flying a plain black, so grab a white and a black, then hoist them up, white on top. Jack will know what they mean." As they began to shuffle off, she called after them. "Quickly now! Yer captain's just over there, don't ye want him back?" Both looked back over their shoulders at her, then quickly sped up so that they were nearly running when they disappeared down into the bowels of the Pearl.

She re-opened the telescope to take another look, when a voice beside her nearly startled her out of her wits. "Have they seen us yet?"

She had forgotten about Gibbs and glanced at him quickly before returning her eye to the eyepiece. "I think so, but I can't be sure." Indeed, the figures running around on the decks of the other ship had not sped up at all, though if her eyes didn't deceive her, there were more of them now than before. She handed it to Gibbs so he could take a look for himself and made her way down to the main deck, giving a nod and a smile to Matelot at the helm on her way past.

Marty and Cotton were just coming back up, their arms loaded up with the black and white fabric that was the two flags. They took them over to the base of the main mast and attached them to the rope, white on top as directed. Then, with a pull and a heave, they both lifted in small jolts until reaching the top.

There, they fluttered in the wind, the black and white cloth a message to the ship that just this once the legendary Black Pearl was not out for the kill.

– – – – -

At the lookout's shout Jack did not even bother to leave his hammock. It would just be another merchantman and someone would get him when she came close enough to judge what load she was carrying and whether or not it was worth taking. He was in sore need of a rest and in recent days even small naps had been denied him.

He closed his eyes, only to reopen them when the pounding of footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of someone else. Soon enough Tom burst into the doorway, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with excitement. Jack opened his mouth to exclaim that the other ship couldn't possibly already be close enough that he was needed on deck but Tom got in first.

"Captain wants you up top. Says there's something funny about this ships flag." Jack just sighed in exasperation. Its flag? How could anyone be stumped about the way another ship was flying its flag?

But he just nodded at Tom to indicate that he was coming and got up to follow the lad up and onto the deck. Before they even made it the whole way up, a loud cry rang out, instilling the rest of crew with a terrified dread and Jack with a disbelieving joy.

"It's th' Black Pearl! The Black Pearl's comin'! They'll kill us all!!

He didn't even notice Tom's wide-eyed look as he shoved past the boy, taking the stairs two at a time and sprinting across the deck. He didn't take the time to register the fact that, for a wonder, everyone – even in their fright – moved back to let him through as he raced to the quarterdeck.

He slammed into the rail as he failed to stop fast enough, whipping the telescope out of Clavell's hands before the captain even realized he was there. Putting his eye to the eyepiece, he aimed the telescope in the direction Clavell had had it and avidly scanned the horizon, coming to rest on the cause of the panic that was now hanging over the rest of the ship.

He froze and his grip automatically tightened on the instrument in his hand as he gazed through it with an eager intensity. Sailing at a ninety degree angle to them, the ship was the color of ebony and the dark hull sliced easily through the water as, even while he watched, it started to turn towards them. The deep black sails that struck fear into the hearts of men all over the Spanish Main, served only to make a gleeful grin form on the man who saw them now.

"Well?" Clavell was regarding him with an impatient stare and Jack thought it a display of just how anxious the captain was, to not even comment on the insubordination shown in the disregard shown to a superior officer in his snatching of the telescope. Jack looked at him blankly. " 'Well?' " He was having a bit of trouble, in his anticipation, registering just what he was meant to be reporting.

Clavell rolled his eyes, irritated. "The flags? The Black Pearl? You have some knowledge in this area. What do you think we should do?" Flags? They had more than one flag?

"Oh. Well. Running is out of the question. She'd catch us no problem and all it'd do is annoy them. I don't think they'd attack another pirate ship – it's against the Code, but that's not a definite." He returned his stare through the eyepiece and directed his gaze towards the two flags that were indeed there and that he hadn't taken notice of earlier.

On top was the white flag of surrender and under it a plain black one, the same as the Jolly was flying. He was having difficulty in believing that anyone could take to sea without knowledge of flags. Instead of openly displaying his disdain, he bottled it inside and made himself keep a respectful expression plastered on his face as he calmly explained.

"A white flag flown over that of the other ship means they wish to negotiate and the weaker side always has to go to the other ship. I suggest you select some men and prepare to take a visit on the Black Pearl."

– – – – -

Elizabeth heard the cries, though she could see no sign of the Pearl out of her window. She did, however, hear the distinctive sound of the guard still stationed outside her door pushing back his chair and rushing away.

Approaching the door quietly, she placed her ear against the wood and listened until she was certain there was no one in the cabin beyond. Throughout the past weeks she had had little to do but search for weak spots in the structure of the room and had come to the conclusion that her best chance of escape was in breaking the lock.

But that would be loud and so only effective if no one was around. Now might be her only opportunity.

She went and got her knife from its place in the small chest in the corner. Clavell had obviously not inspected the room properly as the long, still sharp blade had been in the chest and she had found it the first time she had looked through it.

The other thing she had been spending time on was practicing the nifty throw Will could do with his sword and now, several weeks and numerous cuts later, she felt she had it about as good as was possible without anyone teaching her. She just hoped that it would put her in good stead for being of assistance in the fight that was sure to happen – and happen soon with the Pearl's arrival.

Looking at the lock, she wished it were as simple as picking the darn thing. But she had already tried that to no avail and there was nothing else for it. She tore a chunk of material from the hem of her dress and wrapped it around the blade until she felt it was suitably padded for her to hold. Then she took a secure grip on it and brought the hilt of the knife down on the lock with all the strength she could muster.

A piece broke off, but when she tried the door it still wouldn't open. Retightening her grasp, she brought the hilt down again and again. On the third blow, the lock flew off the door with a smash and a clatter.

Satisfied and feeling strangely endowed, she transferred the knife to her left hand, removed the material and flexed the fingers on her other hand.

Returning the knife to her right hand, she tucked the blade up her long sleeve so that it wasn't immediately visible if she should come across anyone. Then she poked her head around the doorway before following with the rest of her when she saw no one. She pulled the door closed behind her and crept through the cabin.

On her way she grabbed a hooded coat to help her blend in with the rest of the crew. Opening the door out to the deck, she exited, being careful not to look too suspicious, but at the same time without grandeur.

She kept her head down and scuttled the ten feet between her and the stairs that looked to lead into the insides of the ship. She raced down the steps and taking a guess as to where the brig would be, kept going until the bottom. Turning the corner she suddenly came face to face with a man, supposedly guarding the cells she could now see past him.

Before he had time to react she lifted up her knife and clobbered him on the head with the hilt, the same way she had with the lock. It was clumsy and she cut herself without the material to pad the blade, but it did the job and the man slumped to the floor, temporarily incapacitated.

Reaching down, she grabbed the keys from where they hung on his belt and hurried to the first cell. By some miracle, it was Will who sat huddled in the back, though he was almost unrecognizable. He raised his head as she approached and his eyes widened when she pushed her hood back to reveal her face.

"Elizabeth?" She nodded and before she knew he had moved, he was standing just in front of her, reaching through the bars to stroke her hair. "Elizabeth." From this close view she could see the damage the imprisonment had wrought upon him. He was horribly pale, his cheeks had sunken and eyes and lips slightly puffy.

She could do nothing but nod. "Yes Will, it's me." She leaned forward and they stood for a moment, forehead to forehead. But the movement of the guard behind her as he stirred slightly brought her back to reality. However worried she was about Will's condition, the best thing she could do for him was to get him out of that cell so they could get out of this together and into friendly company.

She pulled back and started trying the keys in the lock one by one, explaining briefly what she knew. "The Black Pearl is approaching and Jack has a plan. I'm pretty sure it'll be put into motion soon, with the Pearl so near. We need to help – you know Jack, always getting himself into bad situations. I have a knife and you can grab the guard's sword and pistol." She looked up at him. "What about the others? Do you know what kind of condition they're in?"

Will shook his head mutely and Elizabeth nodded yet again, returning to the task of finding the right key. There must have been fifty keys on this one ring! "We'll have to leave them for now. We don't have the time and I'm sure they can wait. Most of them wouldn't be able to fight anyway. They'll be safer down here. Ahhh…"

The lock clicked as she turned the key and the door swung open.

– – – – -

Anamaria had ordered that the crew pretend indifference as the other party boarded and was pleased to see that they did as they were bid. They had been forced to lock Cotton's parrot down in one of the compartments in the hold for fear he would squawk something best left unsaid.

She had watched with increasing eagerness as Jack had crossed the divide between the two vessels by way of a boarding plank. She hadn't missed the expression of elation flit across his features as he set foot back onto his own ship, though she was sure the two men with him had. Jack had greeted her cordially by her name and so she had been forced to play along, albeit warily – she didn't know what Jack had told the other men and until she did, she couldn't be too careful.

The man he had introduced as Captain Clavell was a large, burly fellow, but the other, Brock, struck her as just plain brutish. Now as she led them to the captain's cabin she tried to catch Jack's gaze but he seemed oblivious, striding purposefully next to her, forcing Clavell and Brock to quicken their paces to keep up.

Opening the door, she ushered them inside, following herself and pulling the door closed. Jack had already made himself comfortable, settling in as if he had never been gone and she moved to sit beside him. The other two men had taken seats and looked rather hesitant, a fact she attributed to the infamy of the ship they were currently seated on.

As she continued to keep the silence, she was pleasantly surprised when the Clavell fellow finally gathered up the courage to ask just why she wanted to hold a parley with them. So they weren't complete dolts then. She rewarded him with a quick, simple answer.

"You have something ours and we want it back."

"No we don't!" When Anamaria only lifted her eyebrows and continued to stare at him, his voice hardened. "Fine then. Wha' is it tha' we supposedly 'ave, eh?" By now Jack was grinning like a loon, as he realized what she was about. Clavell looked confused and Brock had a considerably piqued look on his face as he leaned forward to punctuate his words.

Her smile quickly turned to a grin not unlike Jack's own as she gestured grandly towards him.

"Why, our captain, of course."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I'm terribly sorry that this is late, but in compensation, it is over 3000 words. My defense is that school isn't over so I have that, study for our exams next week, hockey, netball, horse riding and practices for a stage challenge thing we have coming up, plus it was b-day this week. Anyway, I do offer my absolute apologies and beg only that you review. Reviewers will be perpetually adored.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Oneiriad: Here's some more of the captives and Anamaria for you. Hope you enjoy and thanks for the review.

Pirate Shy: Thanks for all those nitpicks. And it's good to know that people like my quick updates though this one wasn't on time.

Heldin: Ohhh, I don't know. What can you expect? And yes, I feel sorry for poor old Jack too with all those dumbies.

Beregond'sGirl: Yeah, I found all the names on the credits, but I have no idea who is who, so I just don't describe them to try and leave it open. Yes, my email is in my profile and that should be cool. When are you on holiday? I don't know when any holidays are in other countries.

Andi Horton: Thanks for that. It's really great to get such a nice review from a new person and it's great to hear from anyone who likes my story.

Crazydominodragongirl: Sorry, this one was a late update, eh? And I don't blame you for having homework – I have it too, which is mainly why this is so late.

Savvyness: Well, yes she would be confused wouldn't she?

Katla: Yay, thanks for reviewing. Its good to get new reviewers.

Inu Lover: Thanks a bunch for your review.

MiRoRmInX: I would leave longer ones but I am in a massive rush so the long review I gave you will have to be recompense for now, okay? Thanks for this really long review though and I'll be sure to respond in kind.

LunarianPrincess: Thanks for that, I hope you enjoyed this installment.

Coolpuella: Sorry that it wasn't up when it should have been but while school may be out for you, I'm just approaching mid-year exams. I will try harder though.

VanillaFluffy: Thank you so much for reviewing. Another new reader. Man, I'm on a roll, lol!

JeanieBeanie33: Thanks for your review, I hope the excitement increased a bit this chapter and it certainly in the next.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.**


	15. Of Bafflement and Dropped Pennies

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter XV: Of Bafflement and Dropped Pennies**

By FalconWing

The woman's smile turned quickly to a grin not unlike Daniels' own as she gestured grandly towards him.

"Why, our captain, of course."

Clavell blinked and looked from Daniels to the woman – Anamaria, he thought she'd said her name was. They both sat smirking calmly and meanwhile his mind was in turmoil.

Suddenly everything made sense: the ease with which the man had settled into a commanding role, the reason he had been at the wedding in the first place, his keeping to this Code Clavell kept hearing about, the feeling he had been getting that the man was more than he was letting on. Even the odd mannerisms he displayed every time he let his guard slip – everyone knew that Jack Sparrow had peculiar affectations.

That was when it really hit him. The man sitting opposite him…the man that had been serving under him for nearly the last two months…was Captain Jack Sparrow, possibly the most infamous, well-known pirate to sail the seven seas.

He couldn't believe it. He felt like such a fool. How could he not have realized?

Clavell turned to look at Brock, but it was obvious from his markedly puzzled expression that he had not shared in the momentous comprehension, so he swiveled his head back to face Daniels.

"Yer Jack Sparrow." It wasn't a question.

The man's grin widened and he spread his hands as if to present himself to better effect. "That's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. And aye, the one and only." He stood up and moved over to the bulkhead and Clavell noticed that the swagger that had been missing from his walk ever since that very first meeting had returned.

Sparrow shrugged on the coat that hung over in the corner and settled a sword belt over his shoulder. Grabbing some boots that were sitting on the floor, he chucked his current ones off and pulled the new ones off. Next he opened a draw in the desk beside him and withdrew what looked like a grubby red bandana and numerous trinkets of various shapes and sizes. The bloody man didn't even seem to be aware of the fact that he had an audience and that there were three pairs of eyes watching him as he proceeded to braid and thread them into his dark locks, placing the red material around his forehead and setting a faded brown tri-cornered hat on his head at a distinctly jaunty angle.

Clavell could only watch the transformation with an equal measure of anger and fascination as he went from looking very much like your everyday sailor to a pirate captain who could rival even the greatest captains to ever sail the ocean – though an admittedly strange one.

Sparrow eyed his reflection in a plain round mirror before turning back to them. "Well, what do you think? Not a bad look, is it?" Back along with the swagger were the ridiculously flamboyant gestures that went with his words. Apparently that was normal for him.

But his words had knocked Clavell back into reality – and Brock too, it would seem, as the man had suddenly sat up straighter after spending the last five minutes, seemingly still puzzling out how second mate Daniels was suddenly Jack Sparrow. The man really wasn't all that bright and the only reason Clavell had made him mate was for his strength and relative skill with a sword.

He frowned, stood up and leaned forward angrily. "Ye lied t' me," he growled menacingly "an' I don't like it when people lie t' me."

He had forgotten about the woman, she had been sitting so still, but now she was on her feet, glaring openly at him. "While yer on the Pearl ye'd best watch was ye say about our captain," she snarled. "It was ye who kidnapped him, remember."

Her hand was hovering near her scabbard and she went to no pains to hide it. That should have reminded Brock of one important fact, but it still took one very sharp, very pointed glance from Clavell to stop him leaping into a fray with the woman. They were on the enemy's territory. Once they were back on their own ship they could blast them all to kingdom come, but until then, they would have to play it smart and play it safe.

He struggled to rein in his fury. "Ye could of jus' told us who ye were! We could've dropped ye off at Tortuga." Obviously they wouldn't have, but there was no harm in trying.

Of course Sparrow didn't buy it. He sauntered back to the table, one hand deceptively casual as it rested on the hilt of his sword. The other was fluttering carelessly around shoulder height and Clavell's gaze was drawn by the movement. "So you mean to say that if only I had stood up and said that I was Captain Jack Sparrow, you would've not only taken me at my word, but returned me to my ship offering profuse apologies and saying good day to such a promising candidate for a prolific ransom?" He snorted contemptuously. "Come on, mate. Daft I may be, but not _that_ daft."

Sparrow couldn't have missed the woman's unimpressed appraisal and skeptically raised eyebrow, but he certainly showed no signs of acknowledging the blatant expression of doubt that appeared on her face at this last comment.

Instead the man merely grinned that incorrigible grin of his and leaned against the back of his chair, lifting one hand to study his nails as if they held the answers to all the questions in the world. "Well, now that they've got what it was that they wanted – me – feel free to toddle back to yer own ship at any given time."

The insolence of the man! Jack Sparrow or not, just this morning he had been a good deal below Clavell himself when it came to rank. And did he really think that he and Brock would scurry back to the Jolly Roger, tails between their legs, now that he was all ready to just go gallivanting back off to his own ship?

"_Are ye mad?_"

He leaped to his feet, the exclamation came out as more of a stunned gasp than the shout he had intended, but the words carried enough emphasis to get the point across. If Sparrow hadn't insisted that pistols should not be taken to a parley, only swords, he would have been very hard put indeed not to draw his gun and shoot the man for his maddening gall.

But Sparrow only paused in his examination of his nails and looked up. "It's been rumored, yes."

The man's infuriating calm was too much for Clavell.

Forget the pistol – his sword was in his hand before he knew it and he was rushing Sparrow. In hindsight, probably not such a good idea.

–          –       –       –          –

Anamaria was still chuckling silently to herself when Clavell made his charge. Trust Jack to wander off in the middle of a conversation and begin to reassemble his customary apparel as though the two men seated behind him glaring daggers at his back weren't there at all.

Anamaria saw Jack's brief grin before he drew his own sword and easily deflected the rushed swing directed towards him. But then she was distracted by the sudden attack of the first mate, Brock. She grasped the hilt of her cutlass and dodged the first few hacks. The man might not have any particular skill with the blade but he was big and while the swings were clumsy, there was still considerable strength behind them.

She ducked under the fourth swing and came back at him quickly, dealing him a gash on his shoulder before he managed to parry. Over his shoulder she could see Jack and Clavell as they circled. From what she could see Jack appeared to be leading Clavell towards the door and she couldn't help but let out a quiet snort in amusement; the way the harried expression on his face was at odds with the ease with which he deflected Clavell's blows he was almost certainly only looking to move the fight out of his cabin before something was knocked over, instead of the idea that there would be his own men there to assist.

Her opponent seemed to think that her snort was aimed at him and growled furiously, his wild chops becoming wilder and fiercer. She ducked and dodged but it was almost inevitable that she get hit. She hissed in pain as his sword sliced a vicious, though superficial, slash across her stomach.

She picked up the pace until her blade was nearly a blur, offering thanks all the while to whoever was listening for the frequent duel practices Jack made all the crew participate in. She dealt him a cut on his other shoulder but this one was longer and deeper and he grunted, attention momentarily distracted and she took the opportunity to follow Jack out the door that he'd vanished through during her preoccupation.

In fact, now that she thought about it, she could hear the sounds of battle outside. Apparently the appearance of the two fighting men on deck had not gone down well by either crew.

From the lack of booming crashes and splintering wood she assumed that neither side had bothered with cannons and, as she stepped back into the sunlight, she could see that she was correct. The decks of both ships were in chaos. Men from the Pearl had boarded the other ship and were battling it out over there and meanwhile, men from the other ship had boarded the Pearl and were engaged in combat.

She glanced around for Jack and Clavell but neither were in sight. It was then that Brock finally stormed his way out of the cabin and locking eyes with her, began striding purposefully towards her. She let him come to her and settled into a waiting stance with her knees bent and sword at the ready.

–          –       –       –          –

When Will and Elizabeth finally made it to the deck, everything seemed in relative order. Men went about their tasks as usual although none of their concentration was on said job. Instead it was the majestic black ship pulled up alongside that drew their attention like moths to a flame and they regarded the other ship with amazement and no small amount of fear.

The first general impression they both got was that there were no men running and screaming, no sound of swords clashing together and no sounds of pistol shots. At least not until the door to the main cabin slammed open on the Pearl and Jack emerged, re-attired in his usual garb, looking for the world like a cat who had just swallowed the canary as he effortlessly blocked the rage-filled blows thrown at him by Clavell.

The Pearl's crew were the first to jump into action. Grapples and hooks were hurled across the intervening space, weapons drawn and the men began to swing across. Strangely some of the Jolly's did this exact same thing, abandoning the defense of their own vessel to their mates as they swung across to launch a brawl on the decks of the ship that dared attack their own. It wasn't that they cared for their captain, after all. After his latest blunder they would likely forget about the ransom and just toss him overboard.

Will squeezed Elizabeth's hand and she smiled reassuringly in response and clutched the sword she had swapped the knife for when they had come upon another crew member below decks.

Then he released her hand so he could transfer his own sword into his right hand as they stepped out of their hiding place in the corner and into the fray.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I really am terribly sorry that this has taken so incredibly long – over two weeks I do believe. I had exams last week and what can I say? I was made to study by parents through methods of force and blackmail, thus I had no opportunity to write this. Please forgive me. I was actually going to make this longer but I really wanted to get it up so there it is. Please review and let me know your thoughts. Reviewers will be hero-worshipped for all of eternity.

I would also like to give a big thanks to Beregond'sGirl for kindly offering to beta-read for me.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Oneiriad: I didn't mean to leave it so long, I swear. And I really don't like leaving you guys in the lurch. If you doubt my heartfelt sincerity just think of it this way…the longer I go without updating, the longer I go with less reviews. I really am terribly sorry. begs forgiveness

Heldin: If you do end up rolling on the floor in hysterics, doesn't your family look at you funny? My parents regard me as though I've completely lost in – which, come to think of it, I probably have.

Ivy Crane: I certainly hope their reactions don't come out anticlimactic. I'm afraid this chapter wasn't my best writing but I really wanted to get it up.

Beregond'sGirl: Eek, well I guess the 21st wasn't the few chapters later you thought it would be. Oh well. Thank you so much for beta-reading it. Golly, I had sooo many stupid mistakes in there didn't I (writing words twice, etc)? Along some me-being-thick errors. Lol. I went along with most of your suggestions – all but one or two, I think. There was one rephrasing suggestion you made that confused me a bit so I just changed it a little bit and left it be. Apart from that though, all your advice was valid and made me realize just how many errors you can make and not pick out of your own writing – though everyone does say it's harder to proof-read your own. Probably because you know what happens you end up skimming.

Quiet Infinity: Aww, I'm flattered. That's so nice. Thank you so much for your review. I assure you it is greatly appreciated.

Coolpuella: I'm sorry this wasn't up very fast at all. Two weeks!! cringes. My profuse apologies.

Chaosity: Yay, new reader!! jumps up and down excitably I really am sorry about not enough humor. I'm not very good at thinking up funny things to say myself let alone other people, but I promise to try harder as with his manner of speaking. Mostly I wrote him a bit better spoken to help distinguish his own unique way of talking from that of Clavell and his crew. It's nice to now people like the slower pace. I have problems no only with writing humor, but with a lot writing large amounts of dialogue and lots of hard and fast action. I'm also gonna try for more Will and Elizabeth before the end. And I was going to mention it in an upcoming chapter but I may as well tell you now, Elizabeth strangely enough was fed the same fare as Clavell while the others were fed the aforementioned slop. Wow, another rider. I do a bit of everything really – though not much cross country – but I do compete a bit in dressage. Now is that a long response or what? Lol.

Crazydominodragongirl: Summer? I wish. I'm sitting here freezing my butt off with all the heaters on as here in New Zealand it is currently the middle of winter. I have just finished exams however and that means only one more week of school until a set of two-week holidays. And you may be getting the feeling that it's almost over because there is only going to be about four or five more chapters left. However I am toying with the idea of a sequel or just another after-PotC story altogether.

Inu Lover (or is it now October Skye?): Yes Will's free again. I'm sure all the avid Will fans will be pleased.

Shadowcat15: Mostly Jack doesn't really care what Anamaria said. He's on home ground now anyway so he's just accepting the chance to preen a bit in the spotlight. Lol.

Peachfreak: And don't you dare make me count all the books I've read. Bloody Hell woman, I'd be doing so for the rest of my natural life, lol. And YES, I'm proud to say that the flag thing is true. I looked it up on the net and there were actually a variety of options. Unfortunately most were more confusing than that one so that's the one I chose.

Matthew: I'm afraid I don't even know what pulp fiction is so I really had no idea what you were talking about when you said about Ringo stealing Jules' wallet. I'm sure I can imagine though. Thank you so much for the review. Sorry the update took so long.

Savvyness: So sorry it took ages. And as I said to crazydominodragongirl, there will only be about nineteen or twenty chapters.

Valk: I know. It took ages even though you and a lot of other people asked me to update as quick as possible. Honestly though, this was as quick as possible but I'll offer my apologies anyway, despite my innocence – as it were.

Ellennar: I'm afraid Norrington doesn't get out just yet. The poor bloke is stuck in the brig while battle rages overhead, lol.

Opranoodlemantra (Mrs Depp, lol): Thanks for reviewing both chapters. Is it possible to go back to the mall and buy them or will you be left bereft?

Pirate Shy: Better late than never. Of course! That is one statement with which I am in complete accord when it comes to reviews. Reviews are grateful received in any shape size or form or at any time.

Gaze: Thank you for the review. I'm sorry updating took so long, though for you it's only one day later I suppose.

Thanks to everyone for reading and (hopefully) reviewing.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing****.**


	16. Of Skirmishes and Pistols

**Before The Dawn******

**Chapter XVI: Of Skirmishes and Pistols**

By FalconWing

Norrington ran his hands through his hair, freed from the confines of his wig. He shifted where he was sitting and allowed his head drop backwards against the bars, letting out a defeated sigh.

He had long since given up his endeavors to make out what was happening up on deck. There was a fight occurring, that much was certain, and yet there had been a fair number of fights in the past few months or however long it had been – abandoned also were any attempts to keep track of the time.

But this one felt different. Before, the battles had all begun with the thundering roar of cannon fire, prior to the distinctive jeers and war cries and the pirates boarded the other vessel. This time there had been nothing but an unearthly quiet before the sudden outcries, clashing of blades and sounds of pistol fire. What's more, the fighting was definitely taking place on this ship, not the other. As if the other ship had attacked first. As if the other ship was winning, or, at the very least, had the upper hand for the time being.

That worried him. Who was this mystery ship? What would happen if they won?

If they were of the navy, then all would be well. He and the other captives would be returned to Port Royal and their lives would continue on. The fact that he was very reluctant to admit even to himself was that this wasn't likely. The very fact that the fighting had not commenced until the two ships were close enough for boarding to happen indicating that they were more likely fellow pirates.

Norrington found himself hoping rather fervently that this was not the case. At least they knew what they were in for with the current bunch of kidnappers. Any other crew may well decide to be rid of them as soon as look at them.

He noticed that he had been jiggling his leg and forced it to stop. Recently he had begun to develop all manner of bad habits. His body's lack of co-operation with his mind's orders was the least of it and it just would not do. While there was no one to comment of such things, if – when – he got back to civilization, he would need to be completely calm and in control. After all, it would hardly do to be caught drumming his fingers or worrying at his bottom lip in the middle of a social occasion, would it?

To distract himself, he stood and began pacing the confines of his cell – or at least, he tried to pace. In actual fact, it was more of a stiff hobble. His strength really wasn't what it used to be. His attempts to keep himself on form notwithstanding, the lack of quality food and dismal living conditions were getting to him. He had lost an inordinate amount of weight and all in all felt perpetually tired and weak.

He was just glad he hadn't yet been reduced to the state of his cellmate.

She lay as still as the dead and indeed one may have thought her so, if not for the occasional shiver that racked her body and intermittent moans that escaped her lips. As though she hadn't been thin enough as it was, she was now almost skeletal in her figure, her cheeks had sunken deep and Norrington was positive that the sallow tinge to her skin was not his imagination.

She had suddenly stopped eating about a fortnight back, though perhaps it hadn't been as sudden as the term implied. Indeed, throughout the recent months, the amount of food she would spoon mechanically into her mouth had grown gradually less and less, until at last the bowl was ignored when he placed it into her hands and she sat staring straight ahead, no comprehension on her face whatsoever. It had been more the finality of her vacant gaze that brought with it such a sense of abruptness.

Despite his efforts to tempt her with food and drink, she had lost even the strength needed to sit straight and collapsed into much the same position she was in now, sprawled on her side. Frankly, Norrington had not a clue of what to do. He was a military man, a man of action, not a doctor or healer of any kind. This was anything but his area of expertise.

So he settled for trickling water in her mouth and trying not to feel too much like a fool when it dribbled back out her mouth. He didn't think she would last much longer and so, unable to do much else, he sat and hoped that against all odds, the attacking vessel was their salvation.

For her and for himself.

–          –       –       –          –

The Pearl's crew set the example and Will was happy to follow along with it, opting to disable the opposition rather than kill. He didn't know their reasons for this policy but followed along with it anyway, regardless of his private wish to personally cut down any man who dared harm his wife. Watching her out the corner of his eye and they stood back to back, he couldn't help but notice that she did so too.

He also couldn't help but take note of the natural ease with which she held her sword. Since when had she learned to fight?

Often she had sat and watched him as he practiced at the smithy and once she had picked up a sword and asked if she was holding it correctly. He had corrected her grip and taught her a few different thrusts and swings.

Granted she had seemed to pick it up as though it were second nature and yes, pirate crew or not, their opponents were hardly masters of the blade, but those factors alone could not account for the grace she displayed as she neatly sliced her challenger's leg and proceeded to clock him one, with the flat of her blade meeting his head with a sickening crack.

The man fell to the deck out cold and Elizabeth turned to flash him a quick reassuring smile before moving forward to meet her next adversary. This brought Will back to reality and he shook his head to clear it of all his queries and uncertainties. He gripped his sword tighter and waited for the next man to attack him.

He didn't have to wait long for the moment he got back into his defensive crouch he had to duck to the side to avoid a heavy swing aimed at his head. Recovering his balance, he came back at the man with a quick feint to the right. The other man bought it, leaving himself wide open and Will stepped smartly to the right dealing him a deep cut to his thigh. When the bloke faltered and made a move to have another go at Will's head, Will switched his own sword to his left side and caught the man's arm neatly with his right hand, using the man's hesitation to his advantage as he slammed the other man's own sword back until it collided solidly with his head.

Looking around the deck Will could see people lying motionless and wondered what on earth Jack and the Pearl would do with a whole crew of unconscious sailors with goose eggs on their heads once they were done. Then he glanced behind him and his heart stopped.

Elizabeth had vanished.

Will could feel himself panicking and forced himself to calm down – well to calm down as much as was possible when he in the middle of a sea-battle and his wife and gone missing in the very thick of it.

He scanned the ship from bow to stern and then back again searching for any sign of her golden brown hair.

There!

Relief flooded him at the sight of her still well and fighting up near the foremast but he still struggled to make his way over to where she was, stumbling over the many comatose bodies strewn between him and her. He used his shoulders to shove people out of his way regardless of what side they were on and those who attempted to engage him in swordplay were dispatched easily with the hilt of his blade. However much he trusted her ability to take care of herself, he would still breathe a hell of a lot easier knowing he had her back.

He reached her side finally and not a moment to soon either. Approaching them both warily was the biggest man Will had ever seen and even with his sword lowered as it was, the giant looked ready to raise it at the least provocation.

He walked in a circle of calm as though no one was prepared to infringe on his personal space even in the midst of such chaos. He stopped a distance from them and the expression on his face was almost concerned.

"Lassie, ye shouldn' be out 'ere in th' fightin'. 'S dangerous."

Will nearly gaped at him, for if not so much on his face, there most certainly had been concern evident in his voice. Elizabeth didn't seem to notice though and she raised her sword threateningly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. And now, I would advise you to take a step back and find someone else caution."

Despite her civil words, there was nothing courteous in the way she clipped her words irritably and her eyes flashed with anger. If there was one thing Elizabeth didn't take kindly to hearing, it was people slandering her capability to defend herself and Will could almost pity the man who got on the wrong side of her tongue if not for the fact that he was the enemy.

Then to Will's further surprise, he nodded politely and stepped back, blending into the mêlée. Not that a man that large could ever completely vanish in the multitudes, no matter how large. His head and shoulders would always stand above the rest of the company.

Will shook his head in confusion and the moment of quiet dissipated. His senses returned to him full force and he had to suppress a wince as the sound overwhelmed his ears, drumming into his brain. But he forced himself to ignore it and returned his attention to his surroundings.

Elizabeth was already occupied with a small weasely looking fellow and taking a leaf out of her book he turned and engaged the man nearest him. The man was pretty good – Will had to give him that – and fought with just enough strength and skill that he managed to keep Will from getting an easy go at his head.

He was actually getting quite frustrated by the time a pistol butt appeared out of nowhere and the man collapsed gracelessly to the deck at Will's feet. Will glanced up and Gibbs winked conspiringly at him before whirling and disappearing back to wherever he had come from.

He shook his head again, this time in slight amusement but it soon turned into a frown as he looked over at the Pearl.

Where had Jack vanished to?

–          –       –       –          –

The Pearl's holds were literally bursting with swag and Jack smirked at Clavell's expression as he struggled to take it all in. The man had probably never seen this much loot in his life, let alone all together in one place and Jack could feel the greed and avarice fairly rolling off him in waves.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Jack used the opportunity to step in and give Clavell a clean slice down his side, dancing back out of his reach before he could recollect himself enough to return the swing. The other man curled his lip in pain and irritation and circled to the right a few paces feinting a high swing and coming in for the low.

Jack read him easily and deflecting the blow aimed at his legs and made his own swing to the left, which Clavell in turn blocked and parried. He had to admit that he had no trouble defending himself against the man, attacking was quite another story. Except when he was distracted, Clavell seemed to know instinctively where Jack was going to attack him and while Jack himself certainly sported no more cuts that the other man he was really quite unpleased with the few major scores he had landed.

In fact, he had been so occupied in the ongoing combat, that he couldn't even tell for sure exactly how long they had been down below decks or even how they had gotten here.

He ducked under the next hack to come his way and turned as he came back up, so that Clavell's back was now facing the stairs back up to the decks. He warded off the next few swings and then moved so that he was on the offensive. A few slashes and he changed tack again. This time he aimed his strikes, not to cut, but to land where they did with _impact_.

He swung, slashed and thrust without pause, forcing Clavell to move backwards as Jack's blows rained down on him again and again.

One more step and his heels hit the first step. Jack paused in his next swing and Clavell did as expected, clambering up the steps backwards until halfway where he turned and completed the climb moving forwards.

Jack followed at a more leisurely pace, meeting Clavell at the top where the other man had stopped and waited. If he had been hoping to make use of the higher ground he had, with Jack being a few steps below, he was sorely disappointed. Jack employed the same tactics as before, herding him first out onto the deck and then up the stairs again, to the quarterdeck.

He could see a few people look over at them, but the majority of them were busily involved in their own personal scuffles. He tried not to think about the fact that many of the men facing his own crew were people that he had, if not befriended, certainly respected in their own right.

But Clavell paid his surroundings no mind and was still there waiting for an opening. Jack sidestepped a chop that was only a hair short of being what he would call wild. While the man was still regaining his balance, Jack finally decided to call it quits. He rearranged his position completely, so that to everyone else, he appeared to leaving himself wide open. This was a strategy he had used many a time and found it worked nearly every time.

Clavell was no exception. Seeing his adversary so exposed he took the bait, making a feint to the left and at the same time, making ready to thrust his sword into Jack's unprotected chest. Instead of slicing through Jack's flesh it was stopped by his sword, which had appeared from nowhere to intercept the blow.

Having fully committed himself to the strike, he had only enough time to catch Jack's glittering smirk before, with a flick and a twist, the sword went flying from his grasp and he was sent stumbling backwards.

Jack lowered hi own sword somewhat, though it was still at the ready and made to swagger over to the now unarmed man.

He certainly hadn't planned on being greeted by fully loaded and cocked pistol pointing directly at his head.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –  – – – –  – – –

Hey guys. Sorry it took so long. And I thought a fortnight on holiday would leave me more writing time. Pfft! Boy, was I mistaken. I ended up being out all day almost everyday, which left very little time to write. So I offer you all my most profound apologies and hope that this made up for it – I don't think it's my longest chapter to date, but it's certainly getting close if it isn't.

To everyone who was confused by the last chapter's title - Of Bafflement and Dropped Pennies – I was referring to the saying "and the penny dropped" which people say when someone has a sudden epiphany or realization of some sort. Sorry about that.

So anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Any feedback is, of course, most welcome, no matter the content (though it is much appreciated if any criticism is constructive). Reviewers will be cherished for eternity.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Oneiriad: (accepts rum) Well, here's a bit more Norrington for you and I hope you enjoy. (toasts to a hopefully quicker update next time)

Ellenar: Love the comparison between Jack and Bugs Bunny. Lol! And I think Norrington is a bit past having open fits – all that horrible food isn't good for the strength. We'll just have to wait and see who the lucky person is that gets to set free.

Ivy Crane: Clavell certainly isn't the best offensive mover, is he? But he does seem to be pretty good at defense.

Beregond'sGirl: Really, it was only two days that you delayed it and when added to the two weeks that it took, it doesn't really make that much difference, eh? And I look forward to reading this fic of yours that I seem to have inspired. I'll have to keep an eye out. And, eeek. I guess I really need to double check the parts I change, eh? I'll make sure to do so in future. Oh and let me know in a review or something when you get back, k?

OpraNoodlemantra: Yeah, maybe just a subtle hint to grandma will do the job and you'll some of it for birthday. I'll cross my fingers on you behalf, shall I?

Kanoloas Wrath: Well, if that cliffhanger was getting to you, what d'you think of this one? Lol. I'll try to get the next one up as soon as I can, I promise – though of course it all depends on how soon I can and I always do put it up as soon a I can so that just leaves us in t he same position anyway…never mind me. I'm confusing myself.

Crazydominodragongirl: As I said above, holidays don't always mean more writing time but I'll continue to try my best. And I've explained the title above as well. I'm sorry if it was confusing. And I don't know if they think they can beat the Black Pearl – Clavell and Brock certainly do but the rest of the crew are just trying to keep the Pearl's crew at bay 'cause the Pearl attacked first when they saw Clavell fighting Jack.

Raiden-sama: Awww, that's so nice. And I have to admit that before Pirates of the Caribbean I didn't pay sailing ships any mind – now however I have pictures of the Interceptor on one of my school books and I love them.

BM Originally: No, I didn't get the first one – I only got one. But that was such a nice review! I think that's the nicest review I've ever had! Thank you so much! wipes eyes with a tissue And I'll never give up with this story – not that there's much left – and I'm certainly planning on continuing writing (mostly thanks to wonderful reviews like yours). huge hug accompanies heartfelt thanks

Savvyness: It wasn't much sooner was it? Sorry. And you're right about the Jolly's crew not having much choice, but Clavell sure is a stuck up bastard sometimes isn't he?

Gaze: Sorry about the wait. That really was a bit more than the one-day tradition wasn't it? My sincerest apologies. "Does that dumb brute, Brock, really he think he can take Anamaria?" Well I guess the operative word there is "dumb". Let's just say he's not the brightest bulb in the chandelier.

JackFan2: "Any chance for some Jack/Ana action during this story? lol.. I'm a bit of a shipper on that relationship." I know. I've read a few of your stories and really enjoyed them. I think I reviewed. Did I review? If I didn't let me know, 'cause this was a while ago – back when I didn't know how marvelously wonderful reviews are. I'm not planning any romance at all in this story, sorry. :(

Heldin: Don't worry; rambling reviews are a great source of amusement for me, lol. And no, I didn't kidnap anybody. casts shifty look around self Lol. Thank you for your review and all your nice comments. They are truly a great help.

Williz: I'm sorry if this wasn't as soon as hoped. My apologies. Hope this ending isn't too suspenseful for you.

MiRoRmInX: I've already told you but I'll tell you again. My reasons;a) you always take ages to update your own story and I'm looking forward to the next chapter and you should be writing that, not beta-reading mine  b) I wasn't planning on having one but Beregond'sGirl was nice enough to offer. Now I think you should apologize to her for being mean! Remember most of the mistakes are ones I made after she went over it for me.

Shie1dmaidenofrohan: Don't worry about getting behind. You went back and reviewed them all and that is greatly appreciated.

PirateShy: Thanks for the review. And I guess Jack wasn't so fond of his old clothes, was he? And he has no compunctions about changing in the middle of a conversation obviously, lol. The exams went okay, yeah. Not excellent, but good, I'm pretty happy.

Katla: The update wasn't very fast and I'm sorry about that. And I don't mind overly that you didn't review last chapter – you did this one and any reviews are adored.

Peachfreak: Ummm, I'd say there are about three chapters to go after this one, so about nineteen over all. Can't believe it. And I don't your bruises beat my knees from hockey last week, lol.

Quiet Infinity: Yup, more high seas action. More frays and fights and a bit of a cliffhanger this time.

Scarlett Burns: Oh yay, a new reader. It's always nice to get a new reader, especially when they review, lol. I know I haven't updated in a while this time – and last time for that matter – but I do try to be relatively fast. I used to get a chapter up every three days and now I can't imagine how I ever managed it. Thanks heaps for the review.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.******


	17. Of Wit and Heroics

**Before The Dawn******

**Chapter XVII: Of Wit and Heroics**

By FalconWing

Jack looked down past the barrel of the pistol aimed between his eyes at Clavell and said the first thing that popped into his head.

"You cheated."

By this time they had gained the attention of their respective crews and though there were still a few groups of people fighting and countless lying insensible, he could feel the eyes of many on him as he, the most feared pirate in the Spanish Main – the world, even – stood at the mercy of some oafish nobody from the back of beyond, who couldn't even sail a ship.

Clavell sneered back at him. "Pirate."

Was it just him or did this conversation sound at least vaguely reminiscent of one between himself and the whelp?

Jack shrugged casually and lowered his sword in his right hand further, letting his left flutter about as he smirked. "Not an especially good one, though are ye, mate?" He clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock disappointment. "You get sea sick. You can't sail. You can't navigate. You have no clue about sea battles. _And_ you know next to nothing about flags…I'm afraid it's not looking good. Probably should have stuck with being a highwayman."

Clavell's reply was a furious glare but Jack's grin only widened as he heard the snickering coming from the main deck. The glare switched focus, scouring the deck and daring anyone to keep laughing. The sniggering died down, though neither of the crews looked properly repentant. Jack could see Quartetto struggling to hide his laughter behind his hand and failing miserably.

Two people whose absences stood out to Jack's eyes were that of Anamaria and Brock. He spent a few moments worrying about Anamaria before he returned his concentration to his own precarious situation.

With Clavell's momentary lack of attention, the pistol had lowered slightly but it was now pointing at his chest. That was no good; a bullet in his heart would be just as fatal as one in his head. Where the pistol had come from, he hadn't the faintest notion. It had certainly not been at the man's waist, for the first thing Jack had done upon clashing swords with him was to check for other weaponry.

But there was certainly no denying the pistol's existence and Jack cursed his own shortsightedness. He had redone his trinkets, retrieved his hat, picked up his sword belt but he had not even thought to grab one of the many pistols that were sure to be floating around in his cabin.

Clavell returned his gaze to Jack and his lip curled. "Maybe, but I'm not th' one on th' wrong side o' th' weapon, eh?"

Would Clavell ever get around to shooting him? Not that he wanted the man to, of course – quite the opposite in fact – but really, he had thought his attempts at stalling the event would have failed long since and that he would be a dead man by now. He had imagined that the aim would be taken and the trigger pulled without delay. Apparently he had been wrong and that fact could certainly be used to his advantage.

Jack placed the point of his sword in front of himself on the deck and rested his hands on the hilt, feigning cheeriness. "Aye, ye got that right." He inclined his head in acknowledgement and raised one forefinger to forestall any feelings of victory on Clavell's part. "And yet, I seem to have one big point in my favor now don't I?" Clavell looked back at him without understanding. "Come now, mate, don't tell me you've forgotten."

When Clavell still failed to comprehend what he was getting at, Jack sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. He leaned forward to emphasize his words and gestured towards himself with his left hand.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

He knew it was risky, provoking Clavell like this, but what could he say? He couldn't help it.

– – – – –

Big Dan inched his way towards the quarterdeck where, despite the fact that Captain Clavell was obviously holding the upper hand, things appeared to be at an impasse.

After coming face to face with the lass and her overly protective fellow, he had swung over onto the Black Pearl – _the _Black Pearl!He still couldn't believe it! – to oversee the fight there and to lend a hand to his own crew. And he meant 'his own crew' quite literally, for it had been decided that he would be the new captain once the mutiny was over with.

And that point in time was growing ever nearer every second, as was the sneering figure of Clavell and strangely smug form of Captain Sparrow. After all, this hostage plot had seemed ill-fated from the first and had only grown steadily more complicated as time went on. Better to dispose of Clavell and Brock now, drop off the hostages wherever – though, of course, any finery they had on them would be forfeit – and try their hand at pillaging and plundering full time.

If they managed to gain the favor of the most feared pirate ship he knew of, by saving their captain's life – who just happened to be his good mate Jack Daniels, if his eyesight wasn't failing him – then so much the better.

Nearing the rear of the ship now, he moved into position so that he had a clear view of the opposing captains. Glancing around himself, he saw that everyone still standing was transfixed with the scene unfolding before them. Indeed, from the snippets of conversation he was catching, Jack was taking his life in his hands as he taunted Clavell.

Satisfied that the coast was clear he squeezed his sword, taking a firmer grip. Unfortunately, he had been forced to use his pistol's shot when some vicious little midget had tried to take him out, but he vaguely remembered a tale Jack had told everyone about a fella he used to know who could throw his sword with uncanny aim. While he had no illusions about his ability to do something he had had no practice with, he was fairly close and it could be his only chance. Anyway, distracting Clavell may just be enough to let Jack to take control of the situation.

He did wish he had had a chance to warn Daniels…Sparrow…about Clavell's pistols. The man had one just about everywhere. The one he was holding now had probably come from his left boot and Dan knew for a fact that there was one in his right boot and hidden down the insides of his trouser waistband. About the only place he didn't keep one was at his belt.

Clavell steeped back again. By now he was standing about four paces from Jack and Dan suddenly realized he had a clear shot.

He pulled back his sword, ready to release when a shout was heard. All eyes turned to the stairs leading down into the depths of the ship. They waited. And waited. Just when everyone was getting ready to turn back to the current occurrence, Brock came hurtling out onto the deck, followed closely by a mulatto woman who was snarling and waving her sword around threateningly.

Upon gaining equal footing, both abruptly noticed that no one else was fighting. Taking in everything that was happening – though likely not understanding any of it – the woman was left standing with a worried expression etched in her features as she looked around while Brock completely disregarded her as he rushed up to the quarterdeck to join in victory.

"Damn!" Dan swore under his breath. He really didn't want the two of them up there. Clavell broke this line of thought by turning to Brock.

"Ye. Grab me sword from o'er there." Here he turned to sneer at Jack. "It doesn' soun' so great sayin' ye shot Jack Sparrow, does it? I thin' I'll run 'im through meself."

Dan's blood turned cold. He needed to do something now or it would be too late.

But at that precise moment, the perfect opportunity came. Brock had retrieved the sword and had walked back over to hand it to Clavell, standing between Big Dan and his captain and Dan knew that if this worked then everything would be fine; Clavell and Brock would be dead, he would be captain of the Jolly Roger and the Black Pearl would be their allies.

He didn't hesitate. He drew back his sword, muttered a prayer to whoever was listening, took a gamble and let fly.

– – – – –

Jack was just thinking that in spite of all his attempts at stalling, he was a goner, when a sword came hurtling out of nowhere and struck Brock to the right of his heart.

He was impelled forwards by the force of the blow and Clavell had just enough time for a startled exclamation before Brock blundered into him. Quick footwork on Clavell's part allowed him to untangled himself from the other man and stay on his feet, while Brock was not so lucky, falling to the deck, struggling to breathe through a punctured lung and quickly gathering a pool of red around where he was lying.

But Jack didn't take note of any of that.

He was too busy scrambling around the deck on hands and knees, searching for the pistol that had gone flying when Brock had so fortuitously collided with Clavell. A small part of his mind registered that Clavell was struggling with his right boot and told him that the man likely had another pistol there.

There! The pistol was lying in the puddle of blood coalescing around Brock's still body.

Jack dived, throwing himself head first towards the now-red weapon. He grabbled for purchase on the slippery metal and swung back towards Clavell, barely taking the time to aim as he reached for the trigger, seeing Clavell do the same, only a split-second behind.

_-BANG-_

The report rang out into the shocked silence, followed by the distinctive sound of a body falling, as Clavell slumped to the deck, the pistol in his hand clattering next to him.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I know, I know, it was a short one, but I'm sure you'll live. Not to mention the fact that it took me ages to post…_again!_ Sorry.

I also apologize for having the "you cheated" "pirate" part in there. I don't like to use the same lines as from the movie even if they are swapped around because the characters are witty enough to think up new things to say. However…I'm not. To be frank, I had no idea what to make Jack say so I nicked it. Hope you don't mind too much (it is the first time I've done that so please forgive me).

I'm also back at school and that means no more all-day outings so hopefully – that's _hopefully_ – I'll be quicker next time. Though I always say that, don't I? Lol.

Anyone who doesn't normally review or hasn't for a while…please do. Obviously that goes for everyone who always does. Thanks a bunch guys.

Big thanks too, to Beregond'sGirl for beta-reading this for me.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Ellenar: Thanks for the review. I hope the end bit wasn't too quick. I wanted it to be sudden but here's to hoping I didn't go over the top.

Oneiriad: Do I really have a thing for cliffhangers? I can't think of many. Maybe the one in chapter two as well as this one, but that's about it isn't it? I think. And Elizabeth does seem to have a penchant for getting herself out of safe situations and into the middle of a fight, doesn't she?

Heldin: Ahhh! No!! I wouldn't even think of killing Jack! Yikes! I certainly wouldn't let him get shot now and then die months later. shudder I guess I just love him too much, eh? I also don't think Norry is getting out just yet. You'll have to wait and see. And no, I'm afraid I don't do fencing although I wouldn't mind doing something like that. If it seems at all authentic then that's just because I've read far too many books and fanfics with sword fighting in them, not to mention movies.

OpraNoodlemantra: Never fear, there is no reason to worry. I could never leave this story too long. The guilt gets to me, you see. And I agree that it is very frustrating when your comp chooses just the wrong moment to crap out. A Jack Hat?! That's so cool. Such a shame you you missed it.

Crazydominodragongirl: No I don't really think she does serve a purpose. Mostly I figured that Norry wouldn't be in there by himself and I didn't want a really overbearing cellmate so I went to the other extreme. Lol. And while I'm not that happy about it, you probably will – school's started again and as we worked out that means more writing time. I hope. And as this chapter told you, the buy dude was Big Dan, who really isn't as dumb as he looks.

Pendragginink: Thanks so much for the review! We'll find out later where Liz learned how to swordfight as well as she is and I have to admit, I didn't really think about what would happen if each took the other's ship. I guess they'd be at a bit of an impasse unless the Jolly's crew decided that the Pearl was better than the Jolly and made off with her. Lol. And I got him out. It took a while, but I managed to get it down. It's harder than I thought trying to write heaps of things happening at once.

Ivy Crane: He does kick ass doesn't he? At least when he doesn't have a pistol in his face.

Shie1dmaidenofrohan: I don't yet know what's going to happen with that woman. She's a mystery even to me.

Gaze: "Hopefully, one of Jack's friend or crew member is conveniently placed right behind Clavell with a rather large hammer, saving Jack!..." Oooooh, you were close. I read that review and I was like 'how the hell did she know?' You sure you weren't reading my mind? And apparently Anamaria ended up below decks as well. Hehe.

Williz: I'm glad you like my story and my fight scenes. I'm trying to make them as really as possible, but sometimes it just isn't possible or feasible.

Alaawya: That's okay, just so long as review now.

Savvyness: No Jack doesn't die. Never fear. I feel rather sorry for Norry myself and I'm the one who put him there. Sorry 'bout the cliffhanger but it was necessary.

Angel Gurl From Hell: Aawww. Thanks for all those reviews. It is really appreciated. Not being able to bring yourself out enough to review, is a good thing! I like to respond to my reviewers. I like getting responses to my reviews so I make them myself. I'm glad the exams are over too and yes, that should mean more time to write.

Pirate Shy: Thanks for pointing those typos and such out. Beregond'sGirl wasn't able to beta-read for me sob I actually found the 'his' and 'a' one just after I updated it but mum and dad made me go to bed and I've never gotten around to it (must somehow make time).

Queen of the Caribbean: If your computer is down then I certainly forgive you. I can't begin to imagine writing on paper. I end up with scribbles all over the page 'cause I'm constantly rubbing out and rewriting things. I couldn't survive without the instant no-mess 'delete' you get with a computer.

Coffee-bender: I'm honored that you reviewed and no reviews are lame to a writer. I am afraid that it probable will be over soon – only bout two, possibly three, chapters left. Most likely two. I am thinking about a sequel but nothing is definite yet. What do you think?

Beregond'sGirl: OMG!! Gone-a? Where the hell did I get that from, eh? I'd say it was me who was having the major blond day. Bloody hell! All I needed to do was add a 'r'. snort I'm not absolutely sure who Quartetto is so feel free to imagine whoever you think it is, lol. With the pistols I got rid of the sleeves which was rather stupid on reflection but the only shot and powder he has on him is the stuff in the pistols 'cause most pirates only carried enough for one shot anyway when they were raiding other ships. And I'd say that Clavell has very bulky boots, because they were rather big back then. The pistol doesn't eveen have to be completely hidden – who's going to check your feet for weapons in the middle of a fight? And Will didn't teach her. So I wonder who did, eh? Hehe. '"I don't suppose you have the chapter with you...?"' LOL!!! Really? You aren't pulling my leg are you? That's just too sweet. Awww. I'm glad to know that the people who review aren't the only people who read. Though, it would be better if they did review… Oh well. Wow! Now is that a long response or is that a long response?

CaptainTish: Thanks. Jack Daniels the drink wasn't actually around back then – didn't come out for another hundred years – but never mind.

MiRoRmInX: Lol. A double review. Bailes: I know what you mean about the too many of certain words. I got stuck and I'm like ;what word do I bloody use? So I basically ended up repeating myself as you noticed. Chrissy: Yeah. It's weird 'cause I kinda had to do the fight from a few different POV's and that's when it starts to get a bit much, I think, but then some of it was crucial and stuff. Ya know? Both: Anyway guys, thanks for being honest.

Raiden-sama: Yes that was my action chapter. There was a little bit in this one but not really enough to be called 'action'. Just a little scrambling really, lol.

Thanks everyone for your reviews!

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.******


	18. Of Accords and Pursuit

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter XVIII: Of Accords and Pursuit**

By FalconWing

The stillness reigned for a good minute until Jack recovered and cleared his throat. Instantaneously he was the focus of two crews worth of interest as the men from both sides tore their gazes off the two men lying dead and favored him with their attention instead.

"Well, whelp, I can't fault the initiative, though a little bit sooner would have been appreciated."

"It wasn' him tha' threw th' sword. T'was me."

Jack turned in surprise as Big Dan stepped forward. Looking back, he saw not only that Will was indeed nodding in acknowledgement of Dan's statement but that the lad still had his sword clasped loosely in his hand. Under closer inspection, the sword imbedded in Brock's chest was of too poor a quality to be one created by such a swordsmith as Will.

In response to this revelation Jack spun to face Dan once more. His eyes narrowed as he studied the other man, but Dan did not waver under the scrutiny and Jack nodded decisively.

"If you'll accompany me to me cabin, Captain Dan, we can have a bit of a tête-à-tête as I believe there are still a few wrinkles in this here situation to be ironed out, so to speak. Regardless of the fact that Clavell was a gormless bastard and that in doing as ye did you saved me life, I still can't say as I'm particularly happy with you conducting a mutiny aboard my ship – let's just say I've had some rather unpleasant experiences with the process myself. There is also the small matter of the number of prisoners being held captive in the bowels of your own ship there.

"Meanwhile," Here he turned to face the men and raised his voice so those at the back could hear him. "You mangy dogs get to work. I want the unconscious awoken, the dead lined up for a sea burial at dusk and the decks scrubbed."

"Tha' goes fer those o' the Jolly Roger as well," Dan added when his crew looked to him.

Satisfied, Jack walked over to Clavell's body. Bending down, he picked up the pistol beside it and weighed it in his hand for a moment. Then abruptly he tucked in his trouser waistband and turned on his heel, swaggering back across the deck. He motioned for Dan to follow him and swaggered down the stairs from the quarterdeck. Ushering Dan in before him, he entered his cabin, throwing a parting glance over his shoulder to check that his orders were being carried out and to instruct Anamaria to take temporary command.

However this little chat was not to be, for no sooner had they taken their seats that the doors flew open again and Gibbs poked his head in.

"Cap'n, there's been sails spotted on th' horizon headin' righ' for us. Looks like th' Dauntless."

"How long until they reach us?"

Gibbs paused. "Abou' fifty minutes," he said thoughtfully. "Give o' take five o' so."

Jack nodded. "Make ready to leave and we'll do so when Captain Dan and I are done here." Gibbs opened his mouth to protest but Jack cut in smoothly. "We won't be long. If the dear Governor believes either of us to be in possession of the civilians, he's hardly likely to fire on us."

There was nothing for Gibbs to do but acquiesce. "Aye, cap'n."

After the door had closed behind the man, Jack turned back to Dan. "Every moment we waste is a moment that the Dauntless is gaining and despite it being two against one, I'm sure you don't fancy facing her do you?" He waited for Dan's agreement, then continued. "Good choice. We've lost enough good men today, the both of us. Now I've got a deal for ye, mate. You give us all the captives you have in your brig and we'll lead the Dauntless off for a merry little chase, while you get away. Savvy?"

"Savvy." Dan grinned and accepted the offered hand. "I don' preten' t' know wha' ye wan' with all o' those people or why ye'd wan' the Dauntless after ye, bu' I'm sure ye've go' ye reasons an' anyhow, they're yer business. 'Sides, I'd gladly accept th' chance t' get away."

"Good man." The gold in Jack's teeth wasn't his only feature that glittered; his eyes danced with amusement as he stood. "Now that we've got that over with, how about we go and liberate ol' Norrington and his fellow prisoners?"

– – – – –

Not a moment after the cry of "sail ho!" came from the crow's nest than a sailor appeared at the door.

"Captain Gillette, there's been sails spotted on the horizon, sir. We can't be certain, but Macaroy thinks there's two ships. One has black sails and he thinks it's the Black Pearl."

The import of these statements caught his attention enough so that he didn't comment on the foolishness of the phrasing – after all, there was only one ship in the entire Spanish Main, perhaps further, that was both foolhardy and confident enough to sport the distinctive black sails. But for once in his life Gillette held his tongue and got up to follow the man out onto the decks.

Through his spyglass it soon became obvious that not only was the larger ship definitely the Black Pearl, but that the second, smaller vessel was also crewed by pirates. Turning to Lieutenant Groves, who was in his opinion much too lacking in the ambition department to ever make it very high in the ranking order – he cared too greatly for others, that one – he beckoned the man forwards.

"Have the cannons ready and loaded and I want the men armed." He allowed his lip to curl scorn. "These filth are about to learn what it is to call upon the wrath of His Majesty's Navy."

"Yessir." Groves turned to leave, but then paused and turned back, unsure. "But sir, there are two of them and as well equipped as the Dauntless undoubtedly is, do you not think they may be too powerful for us to take?" At a frown from Gillette the man subsided and retreated to issue the orders.

The next fifteen minutes was spent setting up the gunnery and piling on sail in an effort to pick up the pace as much as humanly possible while Captain Gillette strolled up and down the quarterdeck. The other ships grew closer and closer and yet despite the fact that they must have sighted the Dauntless, neither ship were showing any signs of movement other than the frenzied scurrying of the tiny figures aboard them.

They were almost within range of the long nines when Governor Swann bustled up onto the deck. "What's going on? You can't really be thinking of use the cannons. My daughter could be on board one of those ships, as could my son-in-law, the Commodore and all of the other captives! If you so much as harm one hair on any of their heads I'll have you out of the Navy so fast you'll leave your hat behind, Captain."

Gillette blinked. Where had this sudden determination come from? Oh, he was the same blustery, irritating Governor as always, but where earlier there had been edginess, there was now determination. Maybe the man had found the drinks cabinet and thought to fortify his nerves.

But however much he wanted to wave away Swann's resolve, whether it stemmed from alcohol or not, the Governor did in fact have the influence to see a mere captain on his way. And, much as he hated to admit it, the man was right. If either of these ships did have those people on board then he really couldn't afford to fire at them willy nillly.

He opened his mouth for a retort that would save his pride but he never got the chance.

A cry from one of the sailors brought everyone's attention back to the two ships. The smaller one had already opened its sails and begun moving quickly off in the opposite direction. The Black Pearl, too, had opened its sails, but if anything it appeared to head almost straight for them, which Gillette new was impossible of course; not even Jack Sparrow could hope to avoid the consequences of bringing one ship where he could have had two against a titan like the HMS Dauntless.

But it seemed he was to be proven in the wrong twice in as many minutes.

The black ship just kept coming and while as it approached it could be ascertained that Sparrow wasn't heading directly for them, it was still close enough to that it made Gillette wonder just what had Sparrow feeling so cocky as to act this foolishly – he had always held that the man had a few screws loose, but this was just plain stupid.

Pursing his lips in disdain, he retrieved his telescope and scanned the other ship. Focusing on the helm he felt his eyes widen and breath quicken. "Governor! Come quickly! It's your daughter!"

As Governor Swann hurried towards him, Gillette took a second look to be sure. But yes, there was Jack Sparrow standing at the helm, one hand keeping the ship steady, the other fluttering about in the air in a ridiculous fashion as he spoke to someone. And there to his side and behind him was Elizabeth Turner nee Swann and while he couldn't see any form of restraints, he knew that there must be something keeping her from struggling.

Then, even as he looked, Sparrow reached to his left and hefted his own spyglass, putting it to his eye. Almost immediately he lowered it again and even from this distance Gillette could see the cheeky grin alight on his face as he waved merrily towards the Dauntless.

Gillette scowled and slammed the telescope shut, stalking away and completely ignoring the Governor, who had just arrived at his side frantic and flustered – in other words, back to his usual self.

Seeing Groves, he gestured the man over. "Lieutenant, tell the helmsman to pursue Sparrow. I want every bit of canvas we have up, every sail open and I want it done now. He won't be getting away this time."

"But sir-" Honestly, did the man have to argue with everything he ordered. Groves was no longer his equal; his job now was to listen and obey. That fact didn't seem to hold him back though. "The Black Pearl is by far the fastest ship of the two. We'll never be able to catch her." Gillette did not like the inflection of awe he put into the pirate ship's name, or the tone of his voice.

"Lieutenant Groves, are you flouting my orders? I said I want it done now. _If_ the Black Pearl does prove too fast for the Dauntless, we shall simply continue on to Port Royal, for that indeed seems to be Sparrow's heading. Is that clear?"

"Yessir."

Groves inclined his head and left, leaving Gillette to smile in satisfaction as pristine white sails snapped open overhead, speeding them onward, after their prey.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I'm sooooo sorry about taking so long to update. Looking back, I can't believe I let it stretch out for that long. Please accept my most profound apologies on the matter.

Just to let you know, this is the second-to-last chapter, there will only be one more. Now, I was thinking about doing a sequel and I have a few ideas – both for that and for a separate story altogether – but I wanted to ask what you guys thought first. I certainly don't want to overdo it, or have a disaster where the last two where a complete let-down (like the Matrix). So let me know what you think about the sequel idea please – whether you would want one or not.

Anyway, on to other things, a huge thank you to Beregond'sGirl for beta-reading this for me (please note that any mistakes are likely to be ones I have made after she has gone over it and all blame should be attributed to me).

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Oneiriad: Never fear, more Norrington next chapter, I promise.

Ellennar: Yes, it is very convenient that most baddies just love to hang around and gloat before making the kill, thus giving the prisoner or person under threat an ideal opportunity for escape.

Missa5: Thanks for the review. No, Jack didn't get shot. In the last sentence I said that Clavell fell to the ground. Sorry if that wasn't clear enough.

She1dmaidenofrohan: Yes, Anamaria really is a great character and just has so many facets her personality – mainly 'cause we don't actually see that much of her.

OpraNoodlemantra: No need for the scary music. Clavell and Brock are well and truly dead. And we will get more from Norrie and the others soon.

Crazydominodragongirl: I knew someone would kill me if I left it on the cliffhanger, thus the non-cliffhanger. Besides, I've already given you guys enough cliffies for a lifetime in this story, eh?

Williz: I'm thrilled you like my story even though there isn't so much of Will and Elizabeth. Good to know that even big fans of other characters still read and enjoy my fic.

Alaawya: Thanks for reviewing all those chapters! And, come on, how on earth could I have killed Jack?! I'm not that horrible… I think. Lol.

Jack E: I swear I will give more information on the conditions of the prisoners – perhaps through Norrie – next chapter. I swear on… well I'm not sure what to swear on, but I promise, k? Thanks so much for the review and your thoughts.

BlackJackSilver: I'm really pleased you find my story interesting and engaging, as I enjoy yours so much. Thanks for the review!

Savvyness: Yes, well like I said earlier, I wouldn't be so mean, nor do I have a death wish. And, there will be more Norrington.

MiRoRmInX: Well, I think you may be the only person who would actually want a cliffhanger, so you're the exception. I've already had enough cliffhangers in this story, anyway. And man, you really need to update soon.

Heldin: Hey I do that all the time – go to write a review and then discover that everyone else has written virtually the same comments that I've just made. At least I now know I'm not the only one. Lol.

Beregond'sGirl: Wow, just a wee bit of a sugar high there, eh? laughs I think I corrected or changed everything you pointed out. About the italicizing ship names, etc, I may go back and change them all later, but as I haven't done that in any previous chapters I think I'll just leave it for now. Everyone knows what I mean and plenty of other people do that too. I will be sure to think about that in any future stories though. (By the way, I left whelp in there up the top because everyone knows immediately who he is talking to without me having to state it.) BTW, while cartoons do have many pirate ships as having black sails, not many actually did because it made them immediately distinguishable as pirates by those who would bring them to justice.

Well, I'm terribly sorry those were so short, but it's almost been four weeks since I updated and I figured you would prefer a quicker update than really long responses. Thanks for all the reviews though guys. It really is enormously appreciated.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.**


	19. Of Homecomings and Sailing Pretty

**Before The Dawn**

**Chapter XIX: Of Homecomings and Sailing Pretty**

By FalconWing

The wind had shifted and the Black Pearl sliced through the water effortlessly, every second putting more distance between her and the Dauntless, which had long ago vanished from view behind them.

Above, the dark sails were filled with wind and judging by the incredible speed at which they were moving, it would take just under half a day to reach Port Royal. By then, it would be well into the night, early morning almost, and the Pearl would be able to slip in and out again under the cover of darkness.

None of this escaped recently rescued James Norrington's notice, though for all the thought he gave it, it may as well have. He stood at the bow of the ship bracing against the forward railing, attention turned inwards and subconsciously casting glances over his shoulder towards the helm where the Captain himself stood, guiding them all homeward.

The problem was that Norrington had thought that he had had everything rationalized after the last Sparrow-led adventure: priorities and the like. 'Thought' being the operative word.

Indeed, he had been certain of it, at least until the pirate captain's unusually solemn voice had spoken from the front of his cell. Until he personally had been saved by the man. Until the other prisoners had been led out and the extent of the situation was made clear.

Out of the fifteen people that had been taken hostage, only eleven now remained. It seemed the conditions of their captivity had gotten to them and their health had steadily declined. Norrington wouldn't be surprised if his own cellmate soon joined their number, despite the attention of the Pearl's 'doctor'. The rest, Will included, were all in a pretty bad way and were still below decks recuperating.

Of them all, Elizabeth proved to be the healthiest. As it turned out, she had been fed the same fare as the captain. Being worth the most money, Captain Clavell had not been willing to risk her health before the ransom was collected. Now, to Norrington's surprise, both he and she were given free run of the deck until Port Royal, something he would not have thought Sparrow to allow.

Oh, he had gained a respect – albeit grudging – for Jack Sparrow on the previous venture, hearing about all that he had done for them from Elizabeth as she plead his case on the voyage back. But that had been just it; while he had heard and approved Sparrow's plans from the outset, all the so-called heroics on his part had been carried out in the cave, while Norrington had been back on the Dauntless.

And as it happened, seeing and believing were two very different things.

"Jaaaack." Norrington turned as Elizabeth's sweet voice broke into his reverie, calling out from the captain's cabin. Too sweet. He turned away from the bowsprit to begin weaving his way further down the ship to where he could see and hear what was happening. Standing back behind the equipment in his surroundings, he stood just out of Elizabeth's line of sight.

"Yes, lass?" Jack inquired, not moving from the ship's wheel.

"Could you come here for a moment please?" Her voice was still too pleasant to be unfeigned, as was the smile on her face. Norrington had known her long enough to know that she only used that voice when someone was going to get a good telling off and by the sounds of things, that person was going to be Jack.

He was not proven wrong. Jack surrendered the helm to one of his crewmen – Cotton? – with a sigh and made his way to his cabin. No sooner had he approached than he caught a stinging blow to his chin as he failed to dodge Elizabeth's flying palm fast enough. Norrington winced in sympathy as Jack rubbed his jaw and shot her a bewildered glance.

"Now I _know_ I didn't deserve that one!" That did nothing to assuage Elizabeth's indignation, however.

"Yes, you did, Jack Sparrow and you know it! Recognize this do you?" Norrington only now realized that she held something in her hands, something that she was now shaking rather forcefully under Jack's nose. From what he could see it was very big, very white and very fluffy. "You _stole _my wedding dress!_"_ Norrington had just enough time to wonder how she knew it was hers, her own having never arrived at Port Royal, when she answered his unspoken question. "This is the exact replica of my designs. What did you do, sack the merchantman we hired to deliver it?!"

"Well… yes, that. "Jack cleared his throat, now distinctly unsettled, and continued, arms gesturing more wildly than ever. "One might say that we though to… ah… relieve Captain Mannings of his rather lacy burden. Deliver it to the bride personally, ye know."

Elizabeth had calmed down considerably now, but she still crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow skeptically.

"And so it never reached me, because?"

Jack smiled ingratiatingly, but Norrington thought he could hear a nervous edge to his voice. "We were a tad behind schedule. Arrived a bit later than expected and only just had time to make it to the ceremony meself."

_"You were at the wedding?"_

Now on slightly safer ground, Jack eyed her questioningly. " 'Course I was, love. Thought ye knew."

This in turn brought forth a barrage of half-suppressed squeaks as she struggled to regain her composure. Norrington was vaguely aware that his own jaw was nearly touching the deck, last vestiges of Navy calm evaporating in wake of this news. Jack Sparrow at the Turners' wedding? The mere thought boggled the mind.

Then his common sense stepped in and pointed out that obviously the man hadn't been in usual attire. Now that he thought about it, Jack's beard was no longer braided. Instead it was trimmed and judging by the cut of it, it had been shaved off completely some time ago and then allowed to grow again.

This thought was backed up by Jack himself as the man chuckled softly at Elizabeth's expression.

"Guess I thought wrong then, eh? Try not to look quite so horrified, 'Lizabeth. I assure you I did not come dressed like this. Indeed, I rather think I looked quite refined." Norrington choked off the snort that had threatened at the thought of the pirate before him being _refined._

Jack carried on regardless, now smiling as though at a particularly fond memory. "…gave me crew a bit of a fright, I'll tell you, seeing me in all me glory." The fond smile turned into the familiar smirk and Elizabeth, poise restored, quirked an eyebrow at his turn of phrase.

"All your glory, indeed," she teased. "I daresay they ran a mile from your idea of refined and glorious."

Jack pouted and Elizabeth smiled as she leant over and cuffed him with the large bundle of white silk she still cradled in her arms. "Never mind. I forgive you."

Forgetting that he was supposed to be sulking, Jack looked up with a puzzled frown. "Just what was it I'm to be forgiven for?"

"Well, stealing my wedding dress. Of course there's still the matter of you coming to the wedding and not even letting us know." Jack opened his mouth to say to interrupt, but Elizabeth cut him off with a wide grin and dancing eyes. "I guess a few bottles of, say, rum would make up for it."

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "Well I must admit lass, I'd not thought ye liked it all that much, but you've only to ask. Anamaria and the lads managed to stock us up nice and full, what with all those ships they were stopping."

"Oh no, Jack. Not to drink… to _burn._"

With that, she turned smartly on her heel and re-entered the cabin at her back, pulling the large doors closed behind her.

Jack stayed where he was for long enough to heave a longsuffering sigh and call softly over his shoulder, "Commodore, if you've finished what you're doing, could I have a word with you?" Then he was off, swaggering back towards the stern.

Norrington started. He had been perfectly silent and even managed to avoid moving excessively. Even if he had, there were enough of the crew out and about adjusting ropes and in the rigging that any noise of movement could have been easily disregarded. Shaking his head, he hurried to catch up with the man ahead of him.

Reclaiming the helm from Cotton, Jack glanced at the full black sails above them. "The wind's picked up. We should reach Port Royal in three hours or so. We may have to wait for full dark before we approach." Norrington looked up sharply.

"You're entering the harbor? Doesn't it seem a bit risky? Fort Charles is not a lax fort by any means. They'll blast you with everything they've got."

"Aye, but how many will be guarding the fort? The Dauntless will surely carry a fair few aboard, the remainder will likely not be as on guard as they should, thinking that the attack has already occurred and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but the Pearl is much better condition than she ever was under Barbossa. Not only has she had a new paint job, but her entire hull has been reinforced, along with the top decks. She'll not be an easy target to take down."

Barely pausing for breath, Jack continued. "And all this is assuming we're seen. There'll be next to no moon tonight, with good cloud cover. The Pearl will take us right in and no one will be any the wiser until we're gone."

Norrington had to admit, he was right. Not that he would back down completely, though. "What if something does go wrong?"

Jack smirked "Why, that's why you'll be tagging along after me. You're me insurance, mate." His eyes sparkled mischievously at Norrington's horrorstruck expression. "Not like that, man. We won't be putting pistols to your head and demanding they let us go or your brains'll decorate the town… well, not unless it becomes necessary, of course. I've just never fancied one of those red marks the noose leaves on yer neck. Reckon it'd make me look a bit peaked."

– – – – –

Jack was right as it happened.

Though the winds later dropped and they didn't have to wait for the dark to settle, the night proved to be a moonless one and the Pearl was able to glide through the water, soundlessly entering the harbor. All lanterns had been extinguished and any conferences were held in a hushed whisper. Everyone knew how easily sound carried through still surroundings and no one had any wish to be discovered, despite their good intentions.

They dropped anchor quite a way out in the cove and lowered the boats. Jack, Anamaria, Tom – who, after much pestering in the short period of time that had had to get organized after the fight, had managed to wheedle his way into being accepted as cabin boy – and a few others accompanied the party to ashore, while Gibbs, along with the majority of the crew, were left with the Pearl.

The boat knocked gently against the dock and a rope quickly fastened them to it. Tom could barely contain his excitement and they clambered out to help everyone else.

Getting the civilians safely on the pier turned out to be a lengthy exercise and even after that they needed support to walk, something that the pirates gave freely, though not without slight awkwardness at the assistance they were so unaccustomed to offering. Tom, being too small to be of help in this department, helped them navigate their way through the winding streets in the darkness.

When they finally reached their destination, the fort turned out to be far too easy to penetrate, what few guards there were, lounging about at their posts. Tom could see the Norrington fellow – who apparently was a Commodore of the British Navy – muttering silent curses at the lack of security and discipline. No one asked him what they would have done if the guards had been half decent and the fort impossible to infiltrate.

Approaching Norrington's office, though, they found more and more officers and Navy men milling about, until it finally proved highly unlikely that they would make it there without being seen.

Still half carrying many of the ex-captives, they were forced to turn back around and head back the way they had come.

In the end, sanctuary was found in the most unlikely of place. The prison. Due to the shortage of patrol forces, the cells were empty and therefore no guards had been set.

Jack conferred shortly with the Commodore for a short moment while Tom helped everyone into as comfortable position as could be found. No doubt they were discussing the pros and cons of waiting a great deal of time before revealing themselves; the ill health of the civilians versus the stroke of ill health that would fall upon Jack and his crew should they reveal themselves too early, leaving the Black Pearl at the mercy of the port's gunnery.

Coming to a decision, they both nodded and turned away, Norrington back to his people, Jack to rejoin his own crew, who had gathered near the exit now that everyone was settled and they ready to go.

Fully ready, they were about to leave when a skirted figure rushed past in a blur. Jack had just enough time to turn around and for his eyes to widen slightly before Elizabeth crashed into him, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug that made him not a little uncomfortable. She soon stepped back to his obvious relief, to be replaced by Will who made do with a firm handshake and a solemn "thank you."

Jack chuckled. "No problem, lad, no problem. Now," he turned to his crew. "Back to the Pearl boys… and girl."

The return to the ship was somewhat of an anticlimax, Tom rather thought.

Without the civilians to burden them, the trip took less than half the time it had to get there and the only trouble was when Jack got them lost by taking the wrong turning and they spent at least ten minutes trying to get unlost. The boats were nearly empty and so light that it took next to no time at all to row back to the boat, where the rest of the crew was waiting, anchor raised in anticipation and canvas already being unfurled.

Norrington was just venturing out to declare his presence as they reboarded the ship, Tom scampering up the rigging to help set the sails and Jack predictably making his way directly to the stern to replace Cotton at the wheel.

Redcoats came running in surprise at their commander's sudden appearance as the Pearl slipped quietly out the harbor, lamps still snuffed and guided gently by Jack's own hands.

And entering the bay not a hundred meters away sailed the Dauntless, decks lit by her own unsnuffed lamps and the sharp military orders of her officers carrying easily across the interceding water, as they made their way home to deliver news of their failure…

…and completely oblivious of the Black Pearl as she sailed by, the biggest pirate threat in the Caribbean escaping from literally under their noses.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I am incredibly sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Even ignoring the fact that in the intervening time from last chapter to now I've had my wisdom teeth out and braces (ugh!) in, the main problem really was that it just didn't want to come out! The writing that is. So I'm terribly sorry if this isn't the best chapter in the world but that was how it happened. Please forgive me.

Now, however, I'm going to cry because that was the LAST chapter. The story is FINISHED and I'm in shock. It's so hard to believe! However, there will be sequel. Yay!! Don't know what I'd do with myself otherwise, lol. Here's a wee summary and stuff so you know what to look out for.

**After Dusk: **The Navy is forced to join forces with the Pearl in order to find their respective allies. It all seems simple enough until the seemingly easy plan involves finding a way into the impregnable fortress of Cartagena and making it out alive – a feat only achieved once, over two hundred years earlier.

Hope to see you for that. I don't know how long it will be before I can get it out because I want to have a proper plan before I start, but until then I'm posting a collection of my drabbles and extended drabbles under, for lack of a better name, Whispered Words. I'm posting the first one tonight, so please review!

One last huge thanks to all my readers, anyone who has ever reviewed and of course to my beta reader, Beregond'sGirl.

**Reviewer's Thanks**

Ellennar The Governor is certainly not the easiest man to have around, no. Thanks so much for all your reviews throughout the story and I hope to see you again for the sequel.

OpraNoodlemantra Thank you so much for all your support. I sorry, the Dauntless didn't meet up with the Pearl; what can I say? The Pearl's just too fast for her.

Oneiriad I know what you mean about the Governor. After all, he did fend off a severed hand, lol. Thanks for all your reviews.

Quiet Infinity: There you go, I gave hints. In fact, I gave a whole summary of the sequel. Thought it best if you knew what to look out for, eh? Thanks so much for all your kind comments throughout the story.

Shie1dmaidenofrohan: Well, basically the sequel will be able what I've pointed out up there, but I think I might manage to pop Big Dan in there as well… I'm rather fond of the fellow. Many thanks for all your reviews.

Crazydominodragongirl Sorry, I didn't get this update up sooner. In fact I think it's the biggest break I've ever had and I feel very bad. My apologies for that and my thanks for your reviews.

BlackJackSilver I agree with you on that one! I would certainly find myself unable to resist the temptation of strangling Gillette if ever I knew him. Luckily I don't so I won't be up for murder any time soon, lol. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Adri-Laree: Well, I am doing a sequel, but if you don't want to wait however long it will be until I publish it, check out my drabbles – and extended drabbles – compilation. hint hint lol. Thanks for all your time in reading and reviewing.

Beregond'sGirl You won't have to file for unemployment! There's always the sequel if you're up for it. I wouldn't worry about the drabbles though, lol. They're not really long enough or complicated enough to merit the editing. Thanks for reading, beta-ing and reviewing!

Williz I'm glad you liked the chapter and the story. Thanks for reviewing.

Savvyness Well as you see, Jack opted for the 'leaving them in their dust' option. Hope to see you for the sequel!

Narya Fire: Wow! Glad to see I'm still attracting readers even on my second-to-last chapter. I'm really glad you liked it and I'm really thankful for you review!

Peachfreak Lol, I like the term willy nilly, too. Thanks for the reviews, mate. Love ya for 'em.

No 1 u wanna no: I'm afraid this isn't a WillJack slash, no, but I'm glad you like it even though it isn't in your usual range of reading. Thanks for the review.

Ellie: And another new reader! It's great to have you reading and thank you so much for all your kind comments. It's good to know you think I've got Jack's character, 'cause he really can be tricky at times.

PirateShy I know this wasn't a fast update by any means and I'm sorry. Thanks for reviewing though, all throughout the story. Your nice comments have really made a difference.

And that's it. Thank to all my readers and I hope to see you for After Dusk.

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.**


	20. Of Sequels and Apologies 'AN'

**A/N:** I'm really sorry to all those people who having been waiting patiently for the sequel to Before The Dawn but I really can't get any inspiration for it. Therefore, I'm afraid that I'll no longer be writing it. I will write other things in future – both Pirates of the Caribbean and other fandoms – and I hope to you'll enjoy them.

Certainly the Pirates of the Caribbean sequel (Dead Man's Chest, I think it's called) should provide plenty of plot ideas, though I do hope for more before then.

Thank you one last time for reading and reviewing, and I'm really glad you enjoyed it. Sorry again!

Love y'all…

**FalconWing.**


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